


Miraculous Moth

by kozz



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Attempt at Humor, Friendship, Illustration, May contain a side of gay, Multi, Multiverse acknowledgement, Mystery, Plot Twists, REE-diculous. Utterly REE-diculous.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozz/pseuds/kozz
Summary: Maron is a normal boy who lives a normal teenage life, but he has a secret - he’s known as the Moth, the anonymous superhero of Paris. Together with the wily superheroine Chat Noir, and the mysterious and intimidating Ladybug, they protect the world from the looming shadow of the supervillain Mayura. Yet with stakes rising with every ruthless reprisal, our heroes are dragged into a mystery wilder than anyone could imagine.





	1. Glitter Bomb

**Author's Note:**

> Short disclaimers, so you can get right to the reading  
> \- Started writing after finishing season 2, I'm taking guesses at peacock miraculous from what we know.  
> \- Fashionably late to fanfic/fandom. I apologize if there's something already like this out there in the aether- this fandom is frighteningly massive.  
> \- I illustrate! Feel free to comment on what you'd enjoy seeing illustrated, I'm using this story as a muse.

 

#### LADYBUG STRIKES AGAIN

  
      The headline was printed in bold, white letters on a seven-foot high red LED screen above the public Le Monde newsstand. It was the only thing in Paris that could possibly rival the Gabriel brand adverts. They set a soft red glow in the evenings, drawing the eye on the walk to school in the mornings. Maron squinted at the words glaring down at him, and the black, giant pixeled dots marqueed on the side.  
_AKURYRI, ICELAND - Ladybug was spotted on the scene of another monster attack nearly wiping out the entire coastline..._ What a way to start an article, Maron thought, for a superhero anyway. Lately, the phrasing of the news made the superheroine her sound much more like a villain instead. He selected one of the newspapers displayed provocatively on the stand, nestled next to similar, glaring headlines, and handed the vendor a bill.  
_The attack wiped out most cellular communication and the destruction went unchecked for at least 48 hours,_ (the article continued) _leaving the local police scrambling to evacuate citizens to safety while the monster rampaged in the coastal waters. At precisely 3AM, the superheroine Ladybug was spotted on the coast and led the monster away from immediate town, finally dispatching the creature around 7AM that morning… _  
Maron skipped down a few lines towards the end of the article,  
_…. local authorities are still searching for the suspect who was at the heart of the attack. Ladybug was not able to be reached for comment as to the disappearance…_  
   __“Maron!” A hand clasped on his shoulder. His best friend Alan, a taller boy with caramel tipped hair stared down at him from his glasses and then tutted gently at Maron’s new purchase.  
    “You know, if you wanted the latest scoop on Ladybug, you should just check out my blog, it’s much faster, plus it’s free.”  
    “You know that I like her articles for inspiration boards.” Maron shrugged with a smile, then pointed out the article “Look at this, Ladybug has a new outfit.” Alan scrutinized the blurry front page photograph. There were only a handful of good images of Ladybug were in circulation due to her scarce nature. The monster she fought cut a terrifying profile, it rose like a goliath iceberg, with white spikes and overlapping teeth like icicles. Ladybug was silhouetted before the creature like a defiant insect, the usual polka-dotted cut of the superheroine was swathed in a long scarf that seemed to billow in the wind from the force of the creatures roar- perfectly frozen in time. Maron could almost hear it.  
    “You’re right.” Alan mused “I have to wonder where she gets all her outfits from. She couldn't possibly make them herself, could she?”  
    “Don't ask me.” Maron carefully tucked the newspaper away in his bag, being mindful to keep the headline article facing inward. He knew that the small kwami inside his bag would appreciate the reading material while he was sitting still in class.  
    “That attack was pretty intense, even for Ladybug,” Alan continued “My alarm went off so early this morning when the news hit my feed. I almost woke up my little brothers when I saw it.”  
    “Mayura keeps reaching for victims deeper in despair all around the globe, so it’s no wonder that the fights are becoming so large in scale.” Maron sighed. They passed a shop, painted red with black polka dots. Ladybug had become an icon for the past seven years. All around the world, there was Ladybug umbrellas, Ladybug lipstick, Ladybug waterbottles, Ladybug clothing lines, Ladybug candy. Paris was no exception to the bug craze, Maron even owned a small Ladybug sewing box.  
    The windows of the shop were dusty, the shelves emptier than usual from the cheerful, polka-dotted stock. It had been that way all over, more so in the past couple of years. Alan sighed heavily at their reflections in the window of “La Coccinelle”.  
    “Her popularity really has taken a dive lately huh?" Maron spoke up, guessing what was on his best friends mind "I wish the news outlets wouldn’t frame her in such a way. It's hard enough that she’s out there all alone, she doesn't deserve the extra flack.” This seemed to perk Alan up, a bright, white smile spread across his face.  
    “Well, that’s what I’m here for, to remind people of the real Ladybug, and everything that she stands for.” Maron felt a swell of affection at this. He was sure that Ladybug would appreciate the gesture if she knew about it.  
The Paris promenade stretched before them in a golden wreath of autumn. It was a crisp, clear morning and cafes offered smells of hot chocolate and coffee. Alan nudged Maron in the shoulder when they came to a crosswalk. Maron followed his gaze up to a young girl who had a large, black, stuffed animal locked tight in her arms. It took only a moment for Maron to realize what it was when she moved and he heard the tinkle of a bell. There was no mistaking those green eyes and the silly expression on its oversized head.  
    “Somebody somewhere is selling a kindle of Chat Noirs.” said Maron, who felt both amused and a compulsion to ask where the girl had gotten the toy.  
    “She’s about due for some fame!” Alan chuckled “Someone who was paying attention finally figured out why kids like her so much.” Maron had to agree as he watched the little girl trot after her mother down the sidewalk, the bell ringing she went. Chat Noir was much newer superheroine to the scene than the well established Ladybug. She didn’t poach the worldwide headlines as the spotted superheroine, but the cat had a totally different appeal. Unlike the intimidating Ladybug, Chat Noir was approachable, sometimes even silly. Kids seemed to adore her, especially when she was tossing around G rated puns faster than a Sunday morning cartoon. Her presence in Paris was apparent- Paw print decals were at an all-time high, while black cats in pet shelters were at an all-time low.  
    “Now all we need is merch of the Moth.” Alan remarked as the peaks of Collège Françoise Dupont came into view beyond the golden, autumn canopy.  
    “Sure, if you can find out what he looks like.” Maron chuckled  
    “True.” his friend smiled slyly in a way that reminded Maron absolutely of a fox, and prompted him to raise his eyebrow at his friend.  
    “…. and?” he prompted  
    “Let’s just say that maybe that Moth's face won’t stay anonymous for long.” Alan’s conspiratorial smile broadened.  
    “Do you have a new Moth scheme?” Maron’s own smile began to mirror his friends. “When did this happen?”  
    “It’s been in the works for a couple months.” Alan made a weighing gesture with his hands “More or less. It’s my biggest project yet to figure out where the Moth has been hiding out all this time!”  
    “No way! And you never told me?!” Maron protested with some theatrical offense. He nudged the boy back playfully with his elbow “Hey! Alan- who is your best friend here? How come I never knew about this?”  
    “Sorry!” Alan laughed with his hands raised in defense, “I kept it quiet because it’s such a huge undertaking, and so many things could go wrong with the project yet, I'm still ironing out the bugs. I didn’t want anyone to get too excited before I had the groundwork down solid and all of my facts triple checked. It’s so close to going live! In fact, probably sooner than you think. You’ll be the first person I’ll show it to when it’s finished.”  
    Maron grinned  
    “I’m sure it's ingenious if you’ve kept it a secret from me this long.” Alan had a glint in his eye that lit up his whole complexion.  
    _‘And hopefully it's nothing I have to worry about…'_ Maron thought privately as they ascended the stairs to the school. Alan had always been fascinated with Ladybug, but lately, that fascination had afforded Maron plenty of headaches.  
    Headaches in mind, they had not yet reached the second floor of the school before they heard shouting from their classroom. Alan and Maron exchanged looks. It didn’t take two guesses as to who was at the epicenter of the tirade. Maron quickly sprinted up the rest of the steps, catching only a colored blur of figures through the classroom windows before slipping through the door.  
    “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! Honest!” Maron's classmate, Ambrose Lavillant was on his knees, pleading. He was a small, blonde boy with eyes that were a little too large for his face so that it gave the odd impression that he was perpetually surprised. He stared up beseechingly to a tall boy, cut smartly in a yellow blazer, with blonde hair preened into something that gave every distinction of a heartbreaker.  
    “Accident? An accident?” the blonde sneered “How convenient for you, especially since I was just talking about how this was a one of a kind item.”  
“Hey, what is going on?” Maron stepped in, sensing that the low jab was probably meant for him even though his name wasn’t mentioned. Cleo spun on his heel to face him. The mayor's son was much taller than he was, with eyes that looked like they were cut from topaz, cold and furious. Maron very quickly determined what was the likely the cause of the dispute: a bright pink, glittery mess was spattered up Cleos monogrammed shirt. The same glitter spilled all over the floor, and on Ambrose's trembling hands, the shattered remains of what could have been a glitter jar scattered on the classroom steps.  
    “I tripped! I swear!” Ambrose's eyes glittered with tears. Maron pushed past Cleo to kneel beside him and helped the small boy to his feet.  
    “Don’t think that playing pathetic card gets you out of anything. You are paying for this. This is a Gabriel shirt! Do you KNOW how hard it is to get one of these? Especially since Gabriel fashion line went out of business, it’s not like I can just replace it!” Cleo sneered. Maron squinted more closely shirt in question, and spot the trademark, butterfly monogram on its collar.  
    “Cleo, it’s just a little glitter. Can’t you wash it out?” Maron pointed out. He regretted his phrasing almost instantly, Cleo’s eyes positively bugged out in incredulity.  
“Do you not know the meaning of one of a kind?” Cleo snapped  
“Surely you wash your clothes once in a while, even 'the one of a kinds'.” Maron shot back.  
“He got glitter on me.” Cloe’s sneer ruined his handsome features. “Glitter is like a-” he raised his fists to grasp for the right word “-a VIRUS of arts and crafts! It gets EVERYWHERE on ANYTHING and then it doesn’t LEAVE. No deep clean is going to get rid of that. This shirt, along with everything that I touch today, is RUINED. HE might as well infected my entire WARDROBE. I’ll probably have to burn it.”  
“Oh for crying out loud-” Alan groaned  
“And I’m NOT sitting in that seat!” Cleo gestured to his normal desk, now dusted with a fine, pink glittery layer of dust. “If Ambrose likes glitter so much then HE can sit in it!”  
    “That’s fine Cleo!” Ambrose sniffed helplessly  
“Come on,” Maron growled and led Ambrose away from the situation. If he stayed under Cleo’s direct ire he was going to do something he would regret. Since he started classes here, Cleo was a consistent thorn in the side of just about everyone here.  
“I’ll go get a broom and pan. Class doesn’t start for another fifteen so we can clean this all up. Are you okay?” He could see that Ambrose’s ears went a bit pink, and he wiped his eyes, which Maron noticed smudged more glitter over his cheek and nose. He nodded and cradled the piece glass to his chest, and Maron realized that it was a glass jar top- it almost looked like a chess piece.  
“Why were you carrying a jar of glitter in the first place, Ambrose?”  
“It… was an art piece- a unicorn jar with glitter inside for my presentation. I… suppose I just tripped.…”  
Maron’s heart sank.  
“You mean, that was for your book report presentation?”  
Ambrose nodded again dejectedly.  
“It was… just… just a prop from the book that I read. I thought it would be fun to get people interested in reading it too, but… I guess shouldn’t have brought it in. I made Cleo so angry, I ended up ruining two things today.”  
“Ambrose, I know that I would have loved to see that, I’m sorry that your prop broke, but I’m sure Mr. Bustier will give you an extension on the presentation. Maybe you can get some help on replacing the glass too.” Ambrose hummed dejectedly, and Maron patted him gently on the shoulder. Poor guy, he was usually a very sweet and bubbly boy, but he was absolutely terrified of Cleo, who ruled the roost of their classroom. Maron did his best to assure him as he dug into the supply closet, retrieved a dustpan and helped to sweep up the glitter on the seat and floor.Presently, Mr. Bustier was also trying his best to diffuse Cleo, who still surfed a wave of self-righteous fury, gesturing to his shirt in hysterical indignation, refusing to be pacified by his best friend Saber, who offered to take him to the bathroom and clean up the shirt himself.  
“What’s going on?”  
Maron heard the dulcet female voice and his head cracked on the bottom of the desk when he tried to sit up to look. He ended up seeing stars instead and hissed through his teeth, and rubbed a quickly sweltering lump on the back of his skull.  
“-really Cleo? It doesn’t look too bad. See?”  
“Of course it’s bad Adrienne! It’s completely ruined! This is your dads brand you know!”  
“It’s not ruined, Cleo. If you’re worried it getting in your hair or clothes, just use a little hairspray and wash, and the glitter comes right off.”  
“Really?”  
“Sure! We used to glitter bomb problems like this all the time on the runway. It’s a modeling secret.”  
There was a pause- then  
“Thanks, Addriekins!” Maron nearly let out an exasperated groan. Cleo moved back to his seat and nudged him with the hard heel of his golden, Bally shoe.  
“I’ve changed my mind.” he said simply. Maron emerged, glaring, from under the desk, with a dustpan full of remnants of glass and glitter.  
“Thank you for taking care of that Maron.” Mr. Bustier nodded gently, seeming to collect himself Cleo's theatrics “And Ambrose, you may have an extension on your presentation if you would still like to prepare. See how you feel later today, alright?”  
Ambrose nodded solemnly, but his big blue eyes were downcast. Maron frowned. It wasn’t fun to see him so sad, but since the class was about to begin, there wasn’t much to be helped right now. He glanced briefly at the desk in front of his- two girls sat there, Nina and….  
… and Adrienne. Her back was turned to him as she was engaged in a conversation with Nina. Maron took note not to linger and slipped into the row behind them next to Alan.  
“See what sort of fun you miss when you don’t come in early?” Alan whispered.

 

Morning drama aside, the rest of the class passed by with relative ease. Everyone presented a short speech on a book that they had read. Some were fun to listen to- like Alan, who picked out a thriller based on a real-life journalist going undercover to expose a scandal. Maron presented a book about Chinese myth and legends which he'd been getting into lately. Much less fun was to listen to Cleo talk about his own biography (which was of course drafted by his friend Saber, a fact which frankly impressed Maron, despite himself. There was a lot of dedication by the mousy, ginger to write a whole short novella about his best friend).  
Admittedly, Maron had hardly a clue what Adrienne’s book was about at first. He was too focused on her face and the mouth-words coming from it. She had unreal green eyes. The color of a cats-eye stone. Her hair was like autumn leaves outside... and her book? Oh yes! When she was finished he gathered that her chosen novel was Montmorency, a petty thief in Victorian London who turns high-class gentleman and spy and lives a double life.  
By the time lunch break arrived, everyone, save for Ambrose, had presented their book reports. Mr. Bustier dismissed them all for lunch and Alan quickly steered Maron through the door.  
“Let's go out somewhere to eat, I’ve got to talk to you about something.” with the expression on Alan's face, Maron was about to ask if it had anything to do with the scheme he had mentioned earlier, but he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.  
“Hey, Maron...” mumbled a low, quiet voice. His classmate, Jules, stood slightly hunched behind him. A very tall, lithe boy with black hair that was dyed violet at its tips and which swooped over one of his copper eyes. Maron had almost not heard him with how quietly he spoke. In fact, he had no real idea what Jules’s report had been about despite how much Mr. Bustier had prompted him to speak up for the rest of the class. He only knew that the cover of his book had an ominous looking eye on the front.  
“Jules,” Maron smiled up at him. “What is it?”  
The boy withdrew his hand from Maron hesitantly, and his shoulders drew themselves together further as if he could hide behind his hair like a shield.  
“That was really cool of you to talk to Ambrose earlier. I could tell it meant a lot to him. He’s feeling pretty down.” Maron glanced around, of all the classmates that were filing past them, the pink-clad boy was nowhere to be seen.  
“I was going to ask if he knew where to get another glass jar," said Maron "maybe I could help him out. We have some extras at the bakery.”      
Jules shook his head sadly.  
“I helped him make the prop. He told me it was an old perfume bottle that was a family gift. I think that he’s feeling guilty about breaking it. I feel bad, I wish there was a way I could have fixed it.”  
“Oh,” Maron frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have tossed the rest of the broken glass away so quickly. Had he known that the jar was an antique, he could have at least tried to salvage it. After all, those had been big shards with clean breaks, maybe there was still a chance he could put it back together! Jules shifted uneasily from one foot to another, and Maron noticed that he had something cradled in his hands.  
“I even had some leftover glitter of my own,” Jules mumbled “Even though it’s not pink, I thought, maybe it would be fun to try remaking a different bottle to cheer him up. I tried talking to him but he left really quickly after class.” his words became so quiet Maron had to lean in just to catch it “I wish I had your confidence, just to jump in and help out in a situation like that, but I just freeze up.”  
“Hey, that’s okay.” Maron offered “Even if you don’t know exactly what to do, just being there as support can be a huge help. I’m sure Ambrose would appreciate the gesture.”  
Jules nodded  
“I’ll go talk to him.” he turned to leave, the hesitated. “Hey Maron,” he peered shyly down at him through his bangs “If you’d like to come to hang out sometime, our band the Kitty Section is practicing on Wednesday. Ambrose is our lead singer. Alan, you can come too, if…. if you want to.”  
“That sounds awesome Jules.” Alan grinned “Ambrose has been talking about how excited he is about performing for the next music festival. It would be fun to see you guys rehearse.”  
“Yeah!” Maron agreed “Thanks!”  
Jules smiled and ducked towards the cafeteria.  
“Are you coming, Maron?” he called  
“Uh, go ahead! I’ll catch up in a bit, I just thought of something I should take care of. Maybe I can fix that jar for Ambrose after all.” Alan smiled and shook his head gently  
    "Okay. Don't spend too long up there okay? There's some things we've seriously got to chat about."

The chatter of the distant students faded as Maron climbed to the now empty classroom. He closed the door behind him and inspected the inside of the classroom garbage bin. Luckily it had only a few pieces of paper and the glint of glass and glitter. Nothing foul had been tossed in.  
“Are you really going to stick your hands in there Sir Dupain-Cheng?” a soft voice asked. Maron glanced down at his bag to see a pair of bright, amethyst eyes peering up at him precociously.  
“You heard what Jules said, that jar sounded like it was really special to Ambrose. I think that it could be fixed with some clear glue, I know I got some at home I’ve used for beaded decoration! Maybe the jar won't be able to hold anything, but at least it can be fixed.”  
“You should at least wear some gloves if you are handling glass.” his friend warned, emerging furtively from the bag and looking dubiously at the bin. The small, violet kwami, Nooroo, had all the trademarks of a moth: he had a plush, fluffy ruff around his neck, six pairs of fluffy legs, and even fluffier pair of antennae which almost looked like a pair of rabbit ears. He sported a pair of soft, powdery wings, and a tuft of periwinkle hair that swirled on his head. In no short terms, he was downright adorable- and if it were not for the semi-professional relationship the kwami preferred to maintain, Maron loved to remind him of this time to time.  
“There’s nothing gross in here. Just paper.” Maron wiggled his fingers and smiled. “I’ve got some thick fabric to put the glass pieces in.”  
“Well, that is very kind of you.” Nooroo perched on his shoulder “Your classmate seemed very upset this morning.” Maron fished out a piece and carefully set it into a leftover fabric scrap.  
“Ambrose?” he prompted, reaching back in.  
“Yes. I must admit, your age group is full of so many ups and downs of emotions, it makes it hard to distinguish everything.” he said “But yes, that seemed to hit him particularly hard. The guilt coming off of him was rather overwhelming.”  
“That bad huh?” Maron sighed. Ever since the kwami had mysteriously appeared inside his room along with the butterfly miraculous, Maron had learned quite a lot about empathy and the effect that strong negative emotions could have on a person.  
He quietly fished out the rest of the glass from the bin, and wrapped them in a spare scrap of canvas fabric he used for sewing, and tied it up smartly with some extra sewing thread. When he was finished, he tucked the pouch in a side pocket of his bag. When he made to leave the classroom, he felt the hairs rise on his neck like he was stepping into a cold room.  
“Is it just me, or did it just get really quiet?” he murmured quietly. After a beat, he realized why: he could no longer hear the voices of the students in the cafeteria below.  
“It certainly did.” Nooroo whispered back from the bag, “Be careful, I feel a great emotional disturbance nearby. It might be-”  
The kwami never finished his sentence, for a yell broke the newly fallen silence in the courtyard below- followed by the sharp clattering of hooves. It sounded like horseshoes! Maron threw himself to the railing and peered down below just in time to see something very bright and very pink in the courtyard below- pursuing a terrified, screaming Cleo Bourgeois.  
Was that a Unicorn?  
And clinging to its crystalline mane, was none other than Ambrose. He was nearly camouflaged into the shimmering creature with his bright, fuschia pants and white shirt.  
“I did not think a guardian was going to make an appearance today.” said Maron as he watched the sparkling, clandestine beast pursue the frightened teenager out of the building and into the streets. It was followed by a trial of students who chased after the pair, their cell phones out and recording, trailing glittering light as they went.  
Teachers were already sprinting to catch up with the students, Mr. Bustier and Mr. Mendeliev, his science teacher, were bringing up the rear shouting for the class to return to the safety of the school. When Mr. Mendeliev spotted Maron descending the stairs, he wheeled on him- his ice blue eyes narrowing to slits.  
“Ah! Absolutely not! Return back to your classroom immediately young man! A peafowl attack is underway!”  
Maron halted in his tracks.  
“But-”  
“No buts.” the man drew himself up to his full height and pointed “Back to your classroom, this instant. The adults will handle this!” Maron peered over his teacher's shoulder as Mr. Bustier managed to shepherd a few stragglers in the courtyard back towards the classrooms. However, as he did so, his hands seemed to become stuck to them. With a exclaimation of surprise, he tried to unstick himself, and the students from each other with dawning horror, only seeming to make the situation worse. Maron watched as soon through their struggles became a thronging mass of glittering hands and flailing feet.  
Not good.  
He dashed back up the stairs two at a time. The principle's office was right down the hall, and he knew that there was a window that could be opened from inside. He burst in, making a person within jump up from behind her desk in surprise.  
“For goodness sake KNOCK first!” Ms. Domacles, a stout, graying lady shouted, blinking her owlish eyes at Maron in utter shock.  
“Uh! Sorry- there’s a guardian attack!” Maron pointed over his shoulder, just as surprised. In his determination, he hadn’t occurred to him that the room wouldn’t be empty.  
“A guardian attack?” his principle blinked wildly, clasping a hand over her heart “In my school? This is completely unprecedented! Are you sure?”  
    A shout from the courtyard below supplied the answer to her question.  
“It looks like there’s some sort of sticky glitter out there. It spreads and glues people to each other.” just like Cleon had described it earlier, Maron thought with irony. Just like a virus, it gets on everything that it touches.  
“Maron, would you be so kind as to step out for a moment?” Mrs. Domacles cleared her throat and adjusting her coat.  
“… Uh. Okay.” Maron backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. The sound of ensuing chaos grew as more students tried to free themselves of the glitter glue. He peeked over the railing to see a human-sized, glittering ball of people trying to maneuver itself into towards the stairs with varying success. Others that managed to avoid becoming stuck stood helplessly by, watching.  
The principles door behind him crashed open- and Ms. Domacles, now dressed in an entirely different outfit, in which Maron could best describe as an owl costume, stood proudly in the doorway.  
“Never fear!” she hooted in an appropriate, superheroine manner. “Ms. Domacles gave me a phone call! And I happened to be close by! Owl save you, students!”  
Maron barely missed grabbing her feathery cape as Ms. Domacles vaulted over the railing with more grace than he would have expected for someone of her stature. Her landing, however, was not so graceful. There came an awful, bodily crash and several cries of dismay as the woman landed precisely on top of the glittering Katamari ball of upset students and teachers- causing an uproar of distressed shouts and curses.   
“Are you ok Ms. Domacles?!” Maron called down  
“The Owl is fine! Thank you!” came the wavering reply below “Please call for backup if you would be so kind!”  
Maron rushed into the office himself, closed the door and locked it.  
“We don’t have a lot of time to fix this Nooroo.”  
“Just say the word!” the kwami called flew out of his bag- eyes bright, and expectant. Maron didn't waste any time, he loosened the scarf slightly from his neck.  
“Nooroo… wings, rise!”

 

Paris was rapidly turning into a glittering, pink wonderland. The streets looked like the streets of Candyland, the trees tinseled with sugared leaves. The Eiffel tower had the beginnings of a gigantic faux Christmas tree that had trounced through the dreams of a faerie obsessed five-year-old.  
Adrienne had to take a brief moment to shield her eyes and take it all in. She’d seen guardian attacks make absolute spectacles of Paris before, even before she’d mysteriously received her miraculous, but nothing quite on this level of glamor.  
It wasn’t hard to track the guardian down, the streets were listing with the panicked howls of pedestrians lodged together. It was really hard to pass them all by, but she’d already seen what happened when someone tried to assist someone who was glitter bombed, they were quickly ensnared like a spider web.  
It was the high streets for now!  
She cracked out her weapon, a pole that could extend to outrageous lengths and hefted it easily as a spear in one arm. As the super-heroine Chat Noir, she had the strength of perhaps ten Adrienne Agrestes, and the enhanced limberness and grace of a feline. If she attempted landing claws first while hopscotching along the peaks of houses without her catsuit and mask, she would pull a tendon, break a wrist or worse.  
Her legs were spring loaded to launch herself into the air with dreamlike ease, spinning in the air along the pole and landing lightly on her soles without disturbing a shingle. She bent easily into the next arcing pole vault- and flew across rooftops, taking five or ten house lengths at a time.  
She was so aware of everything, of the air breezing by her face, and the scents that were carried with it. A familiar sense of euphoria swooped into her chest. Pleas from below came when her shadow hurled over streets  
“Help is on the way!” she called down “Hang in there!” Nothing was immune to the glitter, people stuck to each other and things stuck to other things- birds stuck on fences, flapping helplessly and going nowhere. People affixed to benches, squirrels dangling helplessly to trees, food stuck to faces or stuck in unfortunate positions.  
The sound of general distress eventually led Adrienne to a scene in a traffic circle. A fountain at its center stood frozen in what looked like molten, pink glitter. In its center, a giant beast reared over cars. It WAS a unicorn, but not like any traditional one Adrienne had ever seen depicted.  
Its body was crystalline, like carved glass. As it moved, she could see that it contained bright, primose glitter. Upon its head, a long, cruel horn spiraled, but it seemed as though it was broken: its tip was sharp and ragged. Glitter fountained from it as it tossed its head, braying.  
A Guardian.  
A creature born of a person’s emotional turmoils, given physical form by the villain: Mayura. To what end, no one was quite sure. Whether it was to acquire Chat Noir’s miraculous, to destroy Ladybug, or to find the Moth himself- it seemed Mayura had many goals in mind. This was the fifth Guardian to appear in Paris this month, thought Adrienne. More often than not, they emerged in odd parts of the world, where Ladybug alone dealt with them. Yet, wherever Ladybug was now, she definitely wasn’t in Paris.  
Looks like it would have to deal with her instead.  
Upon the Guardian’s withers clung the diminutive form of Ambrose. He seemed unharmed, but he gazed with wide eyes as the unicorn proceeded to buck over a Bugatti- effectively smashing the vehicle and setting off its horn as it flew across the street- and became firmly affixed to a street sign.  
Okay, Adrienne noted, so just because it LOOKS like it’s made of glass, doesn’t mean it isn’t made of sterner stuff! The cars panicked owner, who had managed to get out of the way of the attack in time, made a run for it across the street. The unicorn turned its attention towards the movement and reared up- its cruel horn flashing as glitter laced out towards him.  
Adrienne dived claws first and crashed into the man. She rolled him behind another car as glitter wafted like a sandstorm.  
“You okay sir?” she asked the man- who seemed perfectly distraught  
“My baby!” he sobbed “That thing killed my baby!”  
“You mean… the Bugatti right?” she tried cautiously, for a moment quite mortified by the implication of his phrasing.  
“Of COURSE my Bugatti! What else?!” the man wailed “I worked for five years to save up for that car!”  
“I’m sorry sir,” She hauled him to his feet and picked him up bridal style. With the click, clack of cloven hooves approaching, she found a glitter-free alleyway to safely deposit him. “At least it isn’t your handsome face!” she said as she directed him down the alleyway.  
The man wailed a thank you, and took off, sobbing as he went.  
“Doing okay down there Chat Noir?” came a voice from above.  
Adrienne glanced up to see a lithe figure which stuck out in the candy flossed wonderland. Bright purple hair, and a striped uniform that made him look like something out of a Tim Burton movie. A boy with painted porcelain skin and eyes of pure black, dressed sharply in a full suit with coattails, and a top hat. He looked like a magician of sorts, topping the look off with white gloves and black lapel rose.   
    Despite the extreme look, it took Adrienne a moment of realization to recognize her classmate, Jules.  
Of course, he wasn’t exactly Jules at the moment.  
“Hello! Who might you be?” she began to wave to him before an ear-splitting crash of metal cut her greeting short. She reflexively sprung up and away, a heavy displacement of air below her ruffled her hair as she narrowly missed the trajectory of another vehicle wheeling towards a shopfront. She sailed high above it, catching a flagpole and swinging herself up to join the stranger on the rooftop. She missed the expected sound of an almighty crash of metal from below.  
Upon peering over the edge of the building- but there was no sign of a car wreck, although a seriously angry glass unicorn pawed at the ground and sorted, glitter billowing from its nostrils.  
The car, it seemed, had joined them on the rooftop, without a scratch upon it. The new superhero perched happily atop its hood, a small glass vial in hand.       
“I’m Vanisher.” he waved at her “It’s nice to meet you Chat Noir!” And with that, he uncorked his bottle, and Adrienne saw with some surprise that it was: more Glitter.  
“Okay.” she raised one brow “Don’t tell me glitter is your power too.”  
Vanisher only laughed and dashed contents of the bottle black to the ground. In a voluminous drift of black smoke- he was gone.  
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the movement of a black, inky cloud materializing down in the square. Vanisher was there, poised confidently before the glass guardian. Adrienne chuckled, that ingenious Moth sure worked fast!  
“Ambrose!” Vanisher called out “Are you okay?”  
Ambrose turned his vacant eyes towards the voice, but like most of the victims of Mayura's attacks, he seemed to be far too lost in the emotions that controlled him. His steed turned its attention to the new, dark target standing in its path and pawed the ground with a sound of jagged glass nails on stone. A shimmering cloud of pink flowered from its horn.  
“Don’t let it touch you!” Adrienne warned as she vaulted towards the square. She spun her weapon furiously for a soft landing, and continued to spin it like a propeller, charging towards the menacing cloud. Sure enough, by whatever physics-defying laws in which the weapon operated, it dispersed the cloud like a fan to smoke.        
    “Thanks,” said Vanisher, now in a battle stance “Pink glitter does not do so well on black clothing.”  
“Ah, good sense of fashion I see!”  
“Any ideas on where the feather is?”  
“Not yet!” Ambrose was hunched over so small on the back of the beast, that it was hard to take a guess.  
“We need to get him off its back.” Adrienne angled her pole towards it. The unicorn flared its nostrils, now turning its attention to the figure that had diffused its attack. Glitter suffused down its jagged horn. When it reared up, another puff of black smoke appeared behind it, and Vanisher reappeared upon its back, straddling the beast right behind Ambrose.  
Ambrose shouted in surprise. The Unicorn, just as surprised, let out a furious screaming whinny and began to buck. Adrienne ducked and rolled under the sharp, stamping edges of its hooves, narrowly dodging rogue clods of glitter. Vanisher yelped as he was flung off overhead, spiraling in a beautiful arc across the square.  
Adrienne lashed out with her pole, smacking the beast with a resounding CR-ACK. Furious, the beast wheeled around, frothing glitter at the mouth, jabbing its horn towards her, to which she parried. Again and again, sucking her stomach to avoid impalement from ragged glass and tiptoeing like a ballerina.  
“I appreciate your unbridled enthusiasm, but you better hoof it if you actually want to hit me!” she teased. Not a half bad fencing opponent, actually. It was times like this that she wished she could use her power of Cataclysm on guardians more easily. It was a moot point, often it wasn’t enough to use on guardians themselves- as many times they would just manifest again fresh and new.  
“Enough!” cried Ambrose, and a generous glob of glitter managed to smack against Addrienne's chest, knocking her to the ground and knocking the breath from her lungs. She knew instantly that she was stuck there, and she sucked in breath. Her hands were free, her legs were free, but it did little to move her.  
“Egh… shoulda landed on my feet.” she croaked. In two angry hoofsteps, she found herself effectively pinned between the legs of a very angry mare.  
A... 'nightmare' she thought with a smile.“Chat Noir.” Ambrose peered over the side of the neck of the beast. His face was outlined in ghostly wingtips, that told Adrienne that Mayura was communicating with him. Adrienne could see her own masked reflection in the scuplted facets of the guardian.  
Think fast Chat.  
“… if you give me your miraculous, and I will not shatter you.” Ambrose spoke gravely “You’ll be free to remain like the rest of the world, staying in one place and in one piece with my glitter glue, and you’ll never EVER break.”  
“Gotta say, with my bad luck that’s a pretty fair offer.” she sighed  
“… really?”  
“Yeah, let me get right on that.”  
Her free, spidercrawling hand finally found her staff, and she swung it, not altogether gracefully, right into the open crag of the unicorn's horn before her. There was no time for any reaction. Adrienne twisted her lower body and round-housed the creature in its surprised, sparkling maw.  
The world from there became chaos.  
In the first moment, she was lying helpless under a giant rearing unicorn, about to be sliced and diced by its killer Cinderella shoes, and in the next moment, she was being yanked backward through a roiling, black void, until she was standing on another rooftop overlooking the scene. Vanisher stared at her with his wide black eyes, hands on his shoulders.  
“Ah! Nice save!” she beamed at him “I almost became catsup! Guess that sticky glitter is no match for your power.”  
The Unicorn down below was bellowing, now wielding, not a craggy horn, but a seven foot long extendable, one of a kind, Chat Noir pole.  
“It’ll never get that out.” Chat muttered "At least it can't glue anything now."  
“That’s not the only thing that’s stuck, I think Ambrose glued on its back! I couldn’t pull him off with me.” The superhero hesitated and fell silent. A bright purple outline of wings, not unlike the ones that had appeared above Ambrose's eyes hovered over his face. Adrienne fell quiet, ignoring the enraged bellows from below.  
Moth must be giving his hero a hint. This wasn’t the first time Adrienne had seen it happen, but every chance she got, she fell perfectly quiet, as if she were silent enough she would be able to hear the Moth’s voice too.  
That never happened of course, but one couldn’t help wishful thinking.  
“The feather is inside a glass unicorn head,” Vanisher said finally “he’s carrying it in his hand.”  
They both peered over the side of the building. The unicorn was bashing its newly extended horn into the alleyway, trying desperately to dislodge it.The two superheroes exchanged looks.  
“There’s no way I can get to Ambrose with that thing moving around the way it is.”  
“We’ll have to reign it in somehow,” and she couldn’t help but grin at the superhero “You know, the best way to catch a unicorn was by herding them into one corner.” It took Vanisher a beat before he gave her a scandalized side-eye. Oh good, Adrienne thought with satisfaction, she was worried for a moment that pun was a little too high brow.  
A bright pair of butterfly wings illuminated the hero's face once more.  
“So, what does Monsieur Moth say?”  
Vanisher grinned  
“He says that’s not a bad idea.” 

Not surprisingly, that Chat Noir was really good at being distracting.  
With the Vanisher busy preparing for the finishing act, Adrienne positioned herself in prime impalement position. Between the extended pole stuck in the guardian’s head, and some perfectly timed puns about Cinderella’s glass slippers, and whack-a-moles, the heroine soon became the single-most object of the Unicorns ire. What was better, was that the angrier the guardian became, the easier it became to dodge it.  
Her body sailed through the air as she jackknifed like the ground was hot lava. The air was filled with the metallic pang of her own weapon came cracking down all around her.  
“Heads up Chat!”  
More out of instinct than the warning, she dodged. She felt that strange feeling of air displacement as an object came into being in space where previously there had been precisely nothing at all, and she found herself staring up at the side of a giant, metal ship.  
“Where did-?!” she began, but a shadow broke her attention as something just as large appeared beside it. A billboard with a mass tangle of metal at its back leaned at a right angle of the boat. Adrienne almost laughed out loud when she saw what advertisement was plastered on the billboard's front- it had her own, larger than life face for a Gabriel brand ad.  
The Unicorn reared, seeming to catch on to the trap and tossed its head towards a free direction, but a new bricked wall obstacle sprung from nowhere. It must have been fifty feet tall, cutting off its escape and entrapping it in a triangle pen.  
Adrienne took a moment to catch her breath as she clung to the side of the ship.  
“I lost creativity on the last one.” Vanisher landed beside Adrienne “Ready to end this?”  
“Of course! Thanks for setting the scene!”  
The Unicorn threw itself at the walls with a terrible cracking sound, bucking and scraping. It sought to jump over the makeshift fence, but the hight of the structures were far too tall and it screamed in anger. Despite the ingenuity, it wasn't going to pen the guardian forever- It was act now or never.  
Adrienne called out the name of her attack through her mask and felt the cataclysm on her fingers tingle like a seltzer bath. She stormed into the pit, trailing its dangerous trial of pure destruction like an inkblot behind her.  
Her claws sythed into the supports of the billboard with the force of a feline cannonball. Destruction welled up along them at just the right angle, and it began to teeter forward with a straining, metallic groan. The Unicorn stumbled and nickered in uncertainty, but there was no place for it to run in such small space. Instead, it backed up until its rear met the corner of the corral, pinned. As the oncoming 50-foot tall picture of grinning Adrienne Agreste threatened to smash it, Ambrose cried out, raising both of his hands up as to stop the billboards descent- and that's where Adrienne spotted it- a glint that caught briefly in the sunlight.  
In the boy's his open palm was the object in which the Guardian was tied to.  
A few things happened at once.  In seconds, Adrienne had launched herself like a coiled spring and snatched the object from Ambrose. Her momentum carried her near crashing into the adjacent wall. The sound of the billboard closed in and the Unicorn reared up, in an effort to better protect its charge.  
The Cataclysm had worked quickly and perfectly, with a sound like a gust of air, the rest of the billboard disintegrated into ash, fluttering harmlessly away in the breeze.  
“We… we’re okay?” Ambrose stammered, looking around. He glanced up to Chat Noir, safely grounded in the wall.  
“Hey!” he called “That was really scary!”  
“Sorry, Ambrose.” Adrienne said, and dashed the hard, cold object in his hand to the ground, where it shattered easily across the concrete. A small, white feather drifted from the broken glass and twirled away in the wind.  
A sound like creaking ice could be heard, and the guardian, cracked. First at its legs, then spiderwebbing up its arched neck. Adrienne half expected the beast to explode, but instead, it dissolved into a black form and disappeared, leaving Ambrose sitting on the ground, blinking as if seeing the world for the first time. His eyes took in the ruin around him, then to Chat Noir and Vanisher before his expression crumpled.  
“Oh- Oh no!” he cried “I…. I did this! I’m so sorry!” Before Adrienne could respond, Vanisher appeared at the boy’s side and pulled him up in his arms, lifting him clear from the ground.  
“Don’t worry,” he spoke with a muffled voice into his hair. After a moment he set him down gently. “Accidents always seem big at the moment, but they will vanish over time.” he smiled, briefly catching Chat Noir’s eye with a glint. She gave him a thumbs up.  
“The question remains,” Adrienne, observing the state of Paris “how to clean all this up? You wouldn’t happen to be able to make all this glitter disappear too? Or maybe a gigantic can of hairspray?”  
“Now that you mention it,” Vanisher said, “I’ve got just a little moxie left in me for this!” He stepped back from Ambrose, and with a sweep of his hand and one last puff of black of dust, the superhero dissapated. Ambrose stood alone blinking at the spot where the superhero once stood like lost child. Adrienne approached him, he looked utterly unhurt, no scratches or cuts, he didn’t seem to have a speck of glitter on him either.  
“How are you feeling? Everything okay?”  
“Yeah.” he nodded unsteadily “Mostly embarrassed, and well, guilty.” he glanced up at her shyly “Sorry that I put you through all of that trouble Chat Noir, you could have really ended up being hurt because of me. I swear I’m not normally like this.”  
“Don’t be.” Adrienne a hand on his shoulder. “Vanisher is right about what he said, everyone makes mistakes, and we all feel bad about those, that’s just a part of life and a part of growing up. Mayura uses those bad emotions to create these creatures for her own gain. It wasn’t your fault that any of this happened.”  
Ambrose nodded and looked timidly out the rose-tinted city.  
“I just hope everyone is okay.”  
As he spoke, something quite peculiar swept across the landscape. It started at the tip of the Eiffel tower and swept its way down, the pink color that mottled the rooftops, streets and trees seemed to evaporate and curl, sparkles drifting upward like a giant snowglobe being disturbed by a giant force, glitterflakes kept drifting upwards to the sky and sparkling into the clouds until they vanished altogether, leaving just the warm, bronze shades of autumn behind.  
    Adrienne let out a sight of relief.  
“I did say I make things vanish right?”  
    Above them, perched upon the prow of the ship, the Vanisher balanced a bottle of glitter in his outstretched palm. Except this time, Adrienne noted, that it was filled not with black glitter, but with pink glitter instead.  
“And now for my final trick!” with a slight flick of his wrists, the little bottle disappeared from view altogether.  
Not bad, talk about finishing up with style. It was no lucky charm, but that was about as clean as you could get without Ladybug here.  
“Times almost up for me, guess it is time to disappear too!” the faint outline of butterfly wings shimmered across the bridge of his nose.  
“Hey! Wait!”  
The Vanisher blinked curiously as Adrienne climbed up towards him.  
“Moth, if he's there, if you’re listening. I was thinking…” oh, shoot, she’d practiced for this moment, but her heart seemed to have gone from 0 to 100 in an instant despite that. “Maybe we could meet up? Soon? Today? This evening? Perhaps on a rooftop overlooking the River Seine? We still haven’t met face to face, so… I was hoping we could talk, one on one.” There was a pause. The butterfly mask flickered over the Vanisher’s eyes, then a slow, little smile as superhero shook his head.  
Oh… she knew that expression. Adrienne’s heart began to sank even before the Vanisher began to answer her.  
“Chat Noir, you know I need to protect my location a secret, just as we both need to protect our secret identities.” His words, Moth's words, she thought instinctively, coming right from Vanisher’s mouth.  
“Yeah but…” she had hoped, that maybe after a particularly good mission, that perhaps Moth might change his mind about staying in complete anonymity, that maybe he’d begun to trust her if just a little “It would only be me meeting up with you! If by some crazy chance something were to come up, I could protect you, Monsieur.”she winked “And if something ever DID come up, you know, I would never kiss and tell.”  
Vanishers’s expression went rather funny for a moment. She could have sworn the glow of butterfly wings on his face turn tint pinker.  
“What did he say?” she tried when she couldn’t take the silence anymore  
Vanisher only shook his head, lifted his hand and formed a fist. He was asking for a fist bump. Adrienne relinquished a small sigh in her chest and let her shoulders relax. She supposed she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up like that. Instead, she met the superheroes knuckles with her own with a sad smile.  
You couldn’t blame a cat for trying, right?

 ===

Maron remained frozen for a minute with his fist extended out in front of him, as if he were fist bumping Chat Noir in person. Of course, he stood alone in a dark, empty school office, with the warm, golden autumn light slanting in through the open window, and little dust motes drifting in lazy swirls.  
The moment he had released Vanisher’s powers, his first point perspective of the superheroes faded away. He now only had simply the hunch of emotions as the butterfly that inhabited Jules’ glass vial flew up and away, towards some unknown destination.  
In those precious few moments, Maron absorbed in everything he could from emotions alone. Chat Noir’s disappointment, which became distracted as Jules transformed back into his civilian self. She quickly went to aid him and Ambrose, leading them away from the site of destruction.  
If there was anything Maron regretted about his powers, it was not being present when a superhero transformed back into their civilian selves. Each time it was they awoke in the same way, their emotions bloomed as if emerging from a vivid dream, with a sense of dawning awe that they had just done something very special, but couldn’t remember exactly what it was. At least for now, both Jules and Ambrose seemed to be glowing with positive feelings.  
Maron smiled, he was grateful that the normally shy boy showed so much courage when he reached out to him. He had picked up on Jules's urge to protect, like a small light in a hayday of chaotic fear of the school. Jules wanted to protect Ambrose, which had been a stroke of luck for the Moth- as it was just the right catalyst to transform the boy the perfect superhero to combat the guilt fueled guardian.  
He hoped that, at least as the superhero Vanisher, he enjoyed the ride of unbridled power, not that Jules would remember it anyway.  
“Dark wings, fall.”  
The transformation fell in a swirling cloud of pillowy, lavander flakes, starting from the top of his head, the mask, down dissolving the soft ruff of his neck, and down the sharp cut suit to his shoes, revealing the light jacket and appliqued shirt that he wore normally.  
Nooroo fluttered up towards his cheek, smiling proudly.  
“Splendid job Maron!” he alighted on his shoulder “Just wonderful!”  
“Same to you!” he offered him his own personal fist bump, to which Nooroo entertained with a tickled expression.  
“You want to be out there, don’t you?” Nooroo added as he leaned against his hand.  
“Wha? Out THERE?” Maron snapped to attention. “That wouldn’t be very smart, not much I can do out there except get in the way.”  
Nooroo gave him an inquisitive look, his head tilted and antennae twitched.  
“You’re rather easy to read Maron.” he smiled “Your desire is like a flame in your heart. Do you not want to take up the offer to meet Chat Noir in person?"  
    "Well..."  
    "She is the only one who appears to trust you in earnest. If we spend some time and talk to her, we might be able to learn where the rest of the Miraculous' are.”  
“Sorry Nooroo,” Maron said apologetically and dug into his bag, producing a purple macaroon. Despite his professional posture, Nooroo accepted it readily.  
“It’s not that I don’t trust Chat Noir, but you never know when Ladybug will show up on the scene, and I don’t want Chat to be caught in the middle of that. Or me really, for that matter.” When he admitted it, there was a dull ache in his chest. He and Chat Noir were a team, albeit a long distance team, but it was too risky to compromise that for something as silly as a meet up. As long as he’d had the Butterfly Miraculous, Ladybug would be searching for him.  
… and as much as Ladybug fascinated him, that wasn’t a meeting he was ready to entertain anytime soon.  
Still, he did feel sad that while he was in here, doing his own bidding, Chat Noir was flying around on the battlefield with her claws out (no pun intended). He could always have a conversation with her if she just wanted to talk. Maybe he should reach out to her soon.  
“She’s getting awfully curious isn’t she Nooroo?” he said, offering him the bag.  
“You are too.” Nooroo pointed out simply as he nestled into the nest of newspapers in his bag. “But, you are probably right to follow your instincts for now. Still, you need friends as the Moth, those you can trust and depend on when we face Mayura one day.”  
As Nooroo settled in, he glimpsed the headline of the morning paper - LADYBUG STRIKES AGAIN...  
He could feel the weight of responsibility staring back up at him from those bold letters. Guardian incidents had been on the rise all over the world. Years ago, they had just every few months. Even before Maron received his Miraculous, he and Alan followed Ladybug taking down the monsters with absolute fascination, as did the rest of the globe. They were huge spectacles to behold, and then they started happening monthly. Then bi-weekly.  
When Maron first met Nooroo, and Chat Noir showed up on the scene, the attacks seemed to be happening in spurts every few days, and a lot of them now seemed to be circling Paris.  
    This made it the fifth attack on Paris this month.  
How did Ladybug keep up with them all on her own?  


“Where WERE you?” Alan ran to near embrace him when he came downstairs to the courtyard. Students were recovering from the attack, some with sprained wrists or bruises, or nursing their personal space bubbles. Half the school still seemed to be missing. The teachers were busy wither assisting students or taking an official report to the authorities that had finally arrived on the scene.  
“I got stuck upstairs.” Maron explained, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly “Tried to use the phone to call for help earlier, but my hand and got stuck to the principles desk.”  
“Oh, Maron.” Alan shook his head “You really should have seen the fight in the square! You won’t believe who Moth chose as his champion this time.” Alan slid his phone into his hands, pointing to the photos of the attack. “It was Jules! Our Jules! I got nearly the whole fight on video. This is going to be so awesome for the blog.”  
Maron dropped his jaw in what he thought was impressed wonder as he swiped through the snapshots, surprisingly well taken. When he was the Moth, he was hyper-focused and immersed in the emotive bond between him and the superhero, he ignored many other things around him- so interesting to see a fight from the point of view of an outsider and to see the whole outfit of Vanisher. Not bad! When he gave powers to someone, his imagination took what it could with the emotions he was feeling, and the ambition of the superhero leant itself into the powers and outfit. It was quick creative thinking, almost like being a collaborative fashion designer! Which suited Maron just fine.  
    Ironically, Alan had been much closer to the fight than he had ever been to one. The last few pictures showed Chat Noir escorting Jules and Ambrose safely to authority figures, wrapped in blankets.  
Good kitty, thought Maron. He was grateful Chat Noir could take care of the civilians. Her words still resonated with him, about meeting up. Of course, It was a terrible idea, but… Nooroo was right about his feelings.  
“How in the world did you manage to stay unstuck?” he handed him back the phone.  
“As a reporter, I’ve learned to be careful!” Alan professed matter-of-factly. “And I’ve been getting a lot of practice lately with all these recent attacks.”  
“I saw some of it too!” Nina came jogging up, taking off her cap and fanning herself. It looked like she’d been running for some time. “All the glitter is gone, but there’s totally a car stuck on the top of a building! And the town square is a bit of a mess right now too.”  
“It’s too bad Ladybug wasn’t here. With her charm, can just automatically fix everything.” Alan frowned “But she was all the way in Iceland this morning…”  
“Look," Nina interjected warily "I'm sorry to interrupt, has anyone seen Adrienne? She was trying to help me out of the attack earlier but then I lost track of her.”   
“Right here!”  
All three of them jumped at the voice, especially Maron, who felt his soul leave his body for a moment. Adrienne looked a little frazzled, her hair more or less flipped to one side and beaming.  
“What a Monday." she nudged Nina "I’m not even sure if they are going to keep the school open today with everyone missing. My mom just called to pick me up.”  
“Adrienne!" Nina grabbed her by the shoulders "Did you see? Jules totally became a superhero!”  
“I heard,” she beamed back at her “How cool is it that Moth picked someone from our class this time?” Maron’s stomach was far busy trapezing on cloud nine somewhere to pretend to be invested in the topic.  
“Right?! Did you get to see any of the fight?”  
“A little bit! The throwdown wasn't very far from the school.” then, she turned her attention to Maron, with eyes smiling.  
“I actually have something for you here that you might want.”  
“Wha-?” said Maron. Presently he realized that she was patiently holding out a wrapped silk bag for him to take. He took it, not comprehending what it was to any degree.  
“Alan told me about what you were planning on doing for Jules right before the guardian showed up. I don’t know if you still plan to do it, but I think I found the last few pieces you need.” She was smiling at him with such pure, distilled sweetness it melted his heart like warm butter.  
The terrible thing about crushes, at least for Maron, was how self-aware he was about it. He saw himself in slow motion responding to her like a movie critic in front of the big screen watching his life play out in a horror flick. Unable to do anything about it of course, but criticize himself.  
“Wha-?” he tried again, a little more forcefully.He watched her laugh. He was scrambling for something else to say to her. What was the right thing to say in this sort of situation?  
Say thank you, Maron.  
Say thank you to Adrienne.  
“Th… thanks?”  
Good, now say that she was very considerate for thinking of you.  
“You’re considering me.”  
“Sorry?”  
“This. I mean. You’re considerate. That’s a good consideration for this-” he gestured to the bag. “thanks.”  
Heck.  
“You’re welcome.” she said in that easy, serene way of hers. Maron felt his knees knock together. What are you doing Maron? Say goodbye to her- she’s LEAVING now-  
“Uh- Buh-Bye!” he’d missed what she’d said almost completely. She waved to him from over her shoulder as she crossed the courtyard, side by side with Nina who was chatting her ear off. It was a minute or so after she disappeared from his sight that space cadet landed, prompted by a nudge from Alan in the shoulder.  
“Hey there.” said Alan “You alright? What did she give you?”  
    "I have absolutely no clue." Maron admitted, staring at the bag like a lost artifact.  
    "Well let's see what it is!" he leaned in to take a closer look as Maron carefully opened up the small pouch. Alan made a noise of confusion, but Maron knew what it was instantly - the remains of Ambrose's glass figurehead!  
    He had no idea how Adrienne got to it in time, but it looked like all the pieces were still there.What an absolute sweetheart. An angel, really.  
“Ooof.” Maron pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. “When am I going to talk to her like a normal human being?”   
“If you need me to be a practice Adrienne,” said Alan, standing in front of him and taking his shoulders in his hands. He began preening his hair and brushing off Maron’s forehead with his thumb. “my offer still stands.” Maron burst out laughing. It was probably by sheer dumb luck that Adrienne didn’t think he was a major creep, because even HE thought he was a major creep sometimes with how invested he was with the girl.  
“Is this your best Adrienne impression?” Maron raised an eyebrow as Alan dusted his hair off. Alan chuckled warmly and booped him on the nose.  
“Boy, you have glitter smeared all over your face.”  
“WHAT?” Maron pushed him back and hastily scrubbed his face. Sure enough, pink glitter came away on his fingertips. He groaned. This was not magical sticky glitter, this was your plain, every day, craft store stuff. Now it was on him, and would probably be haunting him for the rest of the year.  
    "Guess I'll have to buy some hairspray." he sighed.  
"That or ask the Moth to bring the Vanisher back." Alan added.  
“Lucky for me," Maron smiled "pink is my favorite color.”


	2. Sir WiFi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Motley crew invents a better app than Pokemon Go.

**DOUBLE TROUBLE STRIKES SYDNEY**

 

    Adrienne scrolled the news article with breakfast still poised halfway to her face. The news report already made the rounds on social media, videos, and pictures of two very large monsters in front of the iconic Sydney Opera house.  
    There was not just one giant monster in the headlines, but two.  
    “Two?!” Plagg hooted from somewhere in the snack cabinet “That’s not possible! There can’t be two of them! Where is the camembert!? I need to lie down.”  
    The attack had left Australias capital nearly decimated. Adrienne cringed through the walls of flaming comments left for Ladybug on social media, blaming Ladybug for not being able to arrive quick enough. Adrienne opened a new tab for the Moth Monthly.  
    The Moth Monthly was an online blog and forum that her friend Alan ran on his own. Although its content hosted plenty on Ladybug and Chat Noir, it was Adrienne’s favorite haunt for leads about the Moth. She trusted Alan more than a large headline, he was tenacious when it came to ferreting out the truth, and unlike the large outlets, the content was insightful and positive.  
_  
“We have had attacks from Mayura very close together before… sometimes even on the same day.”_ the newest article read “ _This is the first time that we have seen two at the same time. Was Mayura always able to do two at a time? This is an important question that needs to be answered. We saw some more disappearances in Sydney as well. This brings up the total count of missing persons to twenty-five in the past few years._ _Unfortunately, because Ladybug hasn’t commented on these disappearances, we don’t know where these people are going off to, but they seem to happen after every Mayura attack. My theory is-”  
_    "I suref hope Tikki knows what’s going on out there because I sure don’t.” Her kwami friend flowed over her bed with a block of cheese crammed tight in his mouth. Plagg was fascinating to look at. When Adrienne first slipped on the cat ring miraculous, she’d nearly mistook him for a housecat. His face hovered somewhere in the uncanny valley between feline and eldritch, but his most fascinating feature by far was how he moved, not quite liquid, not quite vapor, like a roiling plume of shadow. It was easy for him to hide in plain sight when she was on the move.  
   “Aref you going to talkf toof Ladybuff? Becaushf I really think that you shouldf." Adrienne joined him on the bed in thoughtful silence. Her room was much smaller than the one she used to have, but cozier. Her walls shelved plenty of books, downsized to her favorite titles. Trophies of her accomplishments that used to take up so much empty space were now wedged between photographs of travel. The widescreen TV was replaced by a generous window seat- which boasted a wonderful view of Paris.  
    “We would need to convince Ladybug to trust us.” she said “You know that I’d love to talk to her, but I think that’s going to take some more time. She’s never hung around long enough for me to say “Hi” and “Um” and “I”.”  
    If she was being honest, Adrienne knew how to take a hint, and Ladybug did not want anything to do with her. It was a shame because she found Ladybug nearly as fascinating as the Moth.  
   “What we really need to do is talk to mon Monsieur.”  
    Plagg’s expressive face squinched up.  
    “Are you sure you’re not going after the Moth because you have a human boy crush?”  
    Adrienne sighed a little more dreamily than intended  
    “I want to meet the partner that I’ve been working with for so long. Crush, boy, girl, human, whatever.” she glanced back at her screen, at troubling pictures of the near building-sized monsters “If we’re going to make any headway into finding your kwami friends, he’s going to be our best starting point. He might be scarce, but I know that he at least would be willing to listen.”

 

    Nathanial awaited her by the entrance of the flat, with her tablet perched in hand.  
    “You are scheduled for an after-school modeling session at four thirty.”  
    “I’m still planning on it, thank you.” she smiled at the tall, suited man, with preened black hair that was styled with a streak of red. He did not smile back as he returned to his workspace in the open threshold.  
    It was harder and harder to make Nathan smile these days, Adrienne thought. She hesitated at the door as she watched the family secretary return to his desk.  
    “How about dinner tonight?” she called, leaning against the door “Do you want me to bring us back something on the way back from the shoot?”  
    The man peered over his glasses at him with tired, blue eyes.  
    “I will be here to check you in after the shoot.” he said simply “You should avoid detours on the way home if you are planning to go through with it. I know you have quite a lot of homework slated for this week.”  
    Adrienne nodded. Her wave goodbye to him felt.. hallow.  
   Maybe she should have declined the modeling shoot. She didn’t attend as nearly many after the Gabriel brand had liquidated. She was still the poster child of what was left of her father's carefully structured empire. Her face haunted a few subway stations, a few vagrant billboards (the last of which she probably decimated yesterday during the attack). It was only a short couple of years ago that she’d been harried into countless photo shoots, charity balls, and public meetings.  
    She didn’t while away countless hours wrestling into outfits behind the runway. No more cold, carefully portioned meals eaten at mindfully appointed times, no more obtaining the same perfected image. A strict pressure that had once hung so heavily on her had loosened its grip. For once, she could choose where she could go and what she could do. Possibilities were limitless, at least for a little while, the structure her father had charted for vanished beneath her feet… and that’s when Nathanial had stepped in.  
    He offered the support that he’d provided so dutifully as a secretary when her father was still around, almost with robotic detachment. Nathan always seemed lost in another time. She tried her best to become better friends with him, but he always seemed too busy, channeling what ruins and remains that were left from her father's departure into some sort of assembly. He planned meticulously around Adrienne’s schedule and took care of the back end of their life while her mother was away. She rarely saw him leave his desk.  
    One of these days she was going to have to corner him into a day off.  
    The ring of her phone broke the silence of the backseat of the car, she raced to answer it  
    “Good morning Adrienne,” came a woman voice from’s the other end.  
    “Good evening.” Adrienne beamed into her phone’s camera “What time is it over there?”  
    “Nearly one in the morning.” her mother's smile was wane, but it was genuine. As the camera on Emilie’s end adjusted to the dim lighting, Adrienne caught a nimbus of blonde hair, lopsided, as if it had been up all day and finally let down to rest. There were signs of leftover makeup at the edges of her hairline, and the woman’s bright, peridot eyes were half-lidded.  
    “I’m glad to finally catch you before your classes,” she said, “how close am I this time?”  
    “We are on our way to school” Adrienne laughed “I’d say it’s pretty good timing.”  
    “I will never make the mistake of calling you during a chemistry class experiment again.” Her mother’s laugh was of the sort that couldn’t help but make you chuckle too, even if you weren’t in the mood for it. Her mom’s satisfied smile winked at her at the other end.  
    “I’m hoping that soon I will be able to call you even earlier. Our filming has been on a tight shift, but I insisted I have time to call you. today.”  
    “You don’t have to do that mom-”  
    “I do.” she gently cut her off. “Not being there with you can drive me crazy, when I heard about the attack on Paris yesterday I was so worried. I’m so thankful that Nathanial was able to bring you home safe and sound. I kept thinking that you might be caught up in the battle, with your classmate being the victim.”  
    “It’s alright, really!” Adrienne assured quickly “Moth, Vanisher and Chat Noir were able to win the fight. As long as we have them around, I will be safe.”  
    She saw her mom’s gaze soften on other end.  
    “You are a brave girl Adrienne, but are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to a more private school? Paris seems to be becoming more active with these attacks. I worry about you every day. It would be very easy to arrange.”  
    “Oh! No way!” Panic, for a moment, fluttered in her chest “I love Dupont. I’ve made some really wonderful friends there.”    
    “Well,” Emilie relented “Just remember you don’t hold any obligation to the school, or to me. You make sure that where you are, that you are happy. If there’s anything that makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, you will tell me, won’t you?”  
    “Of course I would. But don’t worry mom, it’s a lot safer here than the media makes it out to be. When you come back home, I can introduce you to some friends of mine and places I like to visit. Maybe I could show you the band I’m in, or maybe you could catch a fencing tournament…”  
    A silence.  
    She felt Plagg shift somewhere within her jacket.  
    “You… are going to come home soon, right?” she added, hopefully.  
    “Oh, Adrienne,” those two words and her mother’s tone told her everything. Adrienne sunk back into her seat like a deflated balloon as her mother continued in a guilty tone “The director handed out some change pages this morning on set. It looks like we’ll be reshooting the scenes here to better fit the new script. So, I’ll be staying a little bit longer than I first thought. I’m not happy about it, and I let the director know about it. They want to have us double the film time to make up for lost budget and time but…”  
    Emilie seemed to remember herself.  
    “I’m sorry love. That’s a terrible excuse, isn’t it?”  
    “It’s alright.” Adrienne did well to keep the disappointment from showing in her voice. Instead, she smiled “Who knows, maybe with this latest modeling spot, I could go out and visit you instead and drag the photographers with me.”  
    There came a gentle laugh on the other end.  
    “You are your father's daughter.” she chuckled “Ever patient and spotting endless opportunities.”  
    The car pulled up to the school.  
    “I’ll let you go.” her mother said. “I love you.”  
    “I love you too.”  
    The car idled.  
    Adrienne felt more hallow than she had when saying goodbye to Nathan behind his desk. Her mom’s voice reaching her from the opposite side of the world. The car rides far too quiet. Gorilla, her bodyguard, glanced up into the rearview mirror patiently as Adrienne quietly thumbed the end call picture, a beaming portrait of a blonde woman on a bright summer day. She saw just the bare trace of grief on her face, disguised in grim determination.  
    Her mom dropped everything for her. She had whisked her away from Paris, just for a little while after Gabrial was gone. She said she wanted to show her another side of the world. Adrienne must have saved hundreds of pictures with her and her mom in the streets of Czechia, or on a secluded moor in Ireland, surrounded by greenery. Not pictured were the long, emotional conversations, or the many gentle reassurances in the spaces between the snapshots.  
    By the time they returned back to France, they had a new house, leaving the large mansion behind. Whiplash was a word Adrienne would use. It was clear that family tragedy did nothing to tarnish Emilie Agrestes decadent reputation as an actress, and in fact, it seemed to make her more desirable. Even Hollywood sets in America called in offering her new and adventurous roles. She reprised action films, a comedy- a voice over for a character in a high budget cartoon film. Right now she was on the set of her first superhero film. Adrienne tried to follow her mother’s example. She tried to get back into a routine as if nothing had changed.  
    As if her father were still here.  
    Private school was heartbreakingly lonely, so she asked to attend a public school. Emilie agreed, seemed happy that she was taking the initiative, that she even let her pick out the school that she wanted; Dupont.  
    A text popped up from her mother, depicting her in full stage costume and alien prosthetic. Adrienne smiled, in a world where superheroes actually existed, she couldn’t wait to tell her all about Chat Noir someday.

 

    “Another modeling shoot?” Nina sighed  
    Nina Lahiffe was Adrienne’s best friend, a girl with glasses, headphones and a penchant for trying to stuff all of her hair underneath baseball caps. She sank back into her desk chair with an air of defeat. “Man, when am I going to get you out to my place to just to relax and play some jams dude?”  
    “You’re right.” she agreed “I’ll make time. When are you free next?”  
    “How about Wednesday?”  
    “Er… bad timing, I actually band practice…” Nina lightly punched Adrienne’s shoulder.  
    “Well, Alan’s heard my mixes a million times, maybe I should invite Maron over for once.” She peeked over her shoulder. Adrienne followed her gaze towards the back of class towards the spot of dark, blue-black hair. The boy in question was leaning over Ambrose’s desk, a wrapped parcel in hand. Ambrose’s eyes lit up as he unwrapped it, and flung his arms around his smaller classmate. A glint behind the tissue paper in his hand revealed the head of a glass unicorn.  
    “He fixed the bottle,” Adrienne grinned. Maron was patting Ambrose's shoulder as he disentangled himself from him.  
    A contemptuous snort drew her gaze to Cleo.  
   “Yesterday that kid turned the entirety of Paris into a pink nightmare." Cleo snapped his gum "My chauffeur has to take me on a wild goose route home because of the destruction he caused to downtown. Not to mention all our money it’s going to cost to fix it.”  blue eyes narrowed on Maron, who made his way back cheerfully to his desk.  
    “Your money or the city’s money?” Adrienne asked politely.  
    “Look, haven’t you had enough deranged ramblings about unicorns?!” Cleo snapped, electing to ignore Adrienne.  
    “Not that sure that I have.” Maron tweeted sweetly from behind them.  
    They were both hushed by Mr. Bustier.  
    Adrienne smiled into her paperwork, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder at Ambrose. With the attack so fresh from yesterday, she had wondered if Ambrose would even show up to school, but she was glad that he did. Everyone (minus Cleo) had been so supportive. When it came for him to present his book report, the boy was bubbles and sunshine (which, Adrienne had to admit, was hard to follow, but Cleo was right, it was about princesses, unicorns, and friendship).

    “Hey- Nina?”  
    “Hey yeah?”  
    “Where are we going?”  
    “You said you were busy after school, so we’re going out now,” Nina tugged Adrienne down the stairs at lunch. “Someplace where we can properly talk.”  
    “Properly talk about what?”  
    Nina glanced over her shoulder and grinned. Adrienne was about to press for more before she picked up on the conversation ahead of them.  
    “- everyone has been dying to know more about him once they caught wind that he existed. I host a whole forum where people discuss their theories, and last week we had a very promising lead.” It was Alan’s voice. She knew what he was talking about immediately  
    “Just wait until you see what I’ve been working on.” Alan was saying to Maron “I’m going to blow. Your. Mind.” Nina and Adrienne raised eyebrows at each other. Adrienne waited until they were out of earshot before murmuring quietly to her friend  
    “Isn’t it bad to eavesdrop on friends?”  
    “We’re not.” Nina defended as they quickly descended the school steps after them, though, keeping a respectable distance from the two boys. Alan and Nina hung out plenty often since the fiasco at the zoo a few months back. She could have sworn he saw Alan glance over his shoulder back at them, and Adrienne pretended not to notice.  
    Their destination ended up to be a small, corner bistro a block away from the school. Blackboards with loopily scripted menu items were sketched with chalk, the smells of soup and fresh baked baguettes and cheeses hung heavy. Adrienne felt a tiny squirm in her coat as Plagg shifted, roused from his nap to the smell of cheese.  
    Nina tugged her towards a window booth were Alan, Maron and another fellow classmate sat together. Maxine was a girl with square glasses and frizzy hair that was trimmed smartly back from her face but bobbed enthusiastically as she spoke with animation. Hovering near her was what looked at first to be a small little device with a screen emotive face. A robot Maxine had introduced to their class as her AI friend, Markov.  
    “In short-” Maxine said, “the resulting algorithm will be able to track down where the Moth is like a handy street map.”  
    “Sorry, could you repeat that?” Adrienne unable to help herself. Maron jumped at her voice, and water gushed from his nose from his drink. He turned away coughing and she felt instant regret.  
    “I’m so sorry Maron-!” Alan passed his sputtering friend a napkin and scooted further down the booth to make room for them to sit  
    “Come join us.” he had a bright, foxish grin “Imbibe.”  
    Adrienne sat down cautiously beside Maron, digressed in a blushing coughing fit, and examined the grinning faces of Nina, Maxine, and Alan in turn.    
    “Is this some sort of secret meet up?”  
    “In a way.” Alan said, “With that crazy double attack that happened in Australia, we thought it was time to reveal a project that the three of us have worked on.” He looked over to Maxine  
    “Max has been developing on an amazing invention for a long while, but she was keeping it to herself. When I heard about it, asked if I could help and asked her to go public with it. I’ve been working on a press release and media accounts to help promote the invention when it is ready to launch.”  
    “It’s going to be such a hit!” Nina plopped herself into the booth beside Maxine. “I’ve been beta testing it before it goes live- making sure it sounds right and runs smoother than a club party mixer..... Maron, you okay over there dude? Do you need another napkin?”  
    Maron waved them both off, his face as red as a tomato.  
    “Did… I hear you correctly earlier, that this app could track down the Moth?” Adrienne ventured casually to disguise her excitement.  
    “In theory, yes.” the robot chimed in with a pleasant, tinny voice. Its screened face and posture emoted something that almost resembled pride “We took the idea from apps that rely on crowd playing, users will have the app running in the back end of phones, and it’ll be able to alert them of threats such as a peafowl attack, or an event as a butterfly sighting.”  
    “Our original objective, was to provide an easy way to alert people of peafowl attacks, which was simple enough, actually.” the robot then volleyed into an explanation about an algorithm that would sync to emergency first responders, radio alerts and public service news feeds.  
    Adrienne was arrested in rapt attention.  
    “Markov here was the one to discover that each one of the butterflies Moth sends out gives off a little psionic ping that his sensors can pick up,” said Maxine “like a wifi hot spot. That gave me an idea. My theory is that this signal is how the Moth is able to connect to his proxies over long distances. I’ve adapted Markov’s sensors to a homing beacon.” the little robot bobbed astutely  
    “I would not have tested this curiousity if it were not for Mr. Césaire’s blog.” the Robot chirped. “An anonymous poster on the Moth Monthly suggested the theory. I thought it would be worth testing.”  
    Alan looked like he was bursting with pride, Nina was grinning ear to ear. Maron was staring at Maxine as if she’d grown a third eye.  
    “As I said.” Maxine pushed her glasses further up her nose. “In theory, the phone will be able to pick up on a psionic signal if it’s nearby, and possibly triangulate its origin.”  
    “We’ve been calling the app the ‘Bug Catcher’.” Alan leaned forward across the table “We’re just about ready to let it go live, but we thought you two wanted to try it out with us first, as the last run!”  
    A waitress briefly interrupted them for their orders, to which they all seemed to remember that they were in a public place, and lowered their voices accordingly. Nina pulled out her phone for them all to see. A bright violet app starburst across the screen and a navigation map appeared. It looked not unlike a regular app one could download from a store, complete with street names and buildings. Dotted around the city there were little white pins, each crowned with a white butterfly. Some had “last sighting” underneath with a time stamp.  As Adrienne zoomed out, she saw that they were all over the city. The most recent marker one was pinned in the town square, the place where the last battle took place, time-stamped to where the butterfly left Vanisher and in the sky.  
    “Anyone can keep track of butterfly sightings in real time.” said Nina “If the phone picks up the signal, it’ll pin a location on the map. It’ll be there for everyone to see across the city.  
    “Only once it is in a certain range.” Maxine added “That’s its greatest weak point. It can’t have a signal strong enough to capture the whole city at once. The more that people use it, the more likely we’ll be able to triangulate Moths location.”  
    “So you could you use it to track Mayura?”  
    “I haven’t had enough source material to know,” Maxine stroked her chin thoughtfully “but if Mayura’s abilities are in any way similar to Moth’s, it’s very possible. That’s why I need to start with the Moth as a case study. Maybe over time, I could find a way for Bug Catcher to protect people against Mayura’s attacks all over the world!”  
    “And it could make Moth’s job a lot easier.” Alan added “Ladybug and Chat Noir can rush into the situation. I noticed that half of the time that Moths heroes show up when the battle is already over. I think that Moth first has to hear about the attack, gown up, assess the situation then find somebody to help. Think about all the time we’d save him if someone that wants to try and help will already be there for him?”  
    They barely touched their food when it arrived. Nino and Alan explained the research and test runs they spent on the app, the conversation logs that they’d saved from the anonymous poster on the Moth Monthly, how the app sometimes mistook wifi signals for butterflies and the situations they found themselves in.  
    Adrienne listened in a daze, letting her mind wander. Plagg, who was purring contently against her ribs, savoring the few bits of cheese she’d discreetly slipped him. Was it too early to give him an affectionate ‘I told you so?’ If this actually worked, then she was so tantalizingly close in finding the Moth… maybe talking to him in person.

    “Do you think that’s the best idea?”  
    The question drew silence to the table. Maron set his fork down and looked Maxine.  
    “Max, I think the idea for warning the city about attacks is really incredible and it could help a lot of people, but I think you’re putting Moth in a difficult position.”  
    Maxine blinked. So did Markov.  
    “Could you elaborate?” Markov prompted.  
    “If the app works as you say, and alerts the authorities wouldn’t that mean a bunch of people, all social media, and the chief of police will be storming the area looking for a superhero that, as far as we know wants to remain hidden? What if he will have nowhere to hide when he needs to turn back to his secret identity?”  
    “We’re not going on a crusade.” Alan spread his arms wide “I get Moth is trying to remain totally anonymous, but things are really heating up out there, it feels like Mayura is getting stronger, and people are nervous. Look at what the press has done for Ladybug’s reputation because she’s likely overworked. Once she really started dodging public face, people started thinking of her as a vigilante. Bringing Moth out into the light for some positive press will help him out will help him, not hurt him. He needs it!”  
    “He has Chat Noir to help him.” Maron said swiftly “In fact, it’s Ladybug and Chat Noir that are the ones that carry the load of battle. The Moth is just additional support, but he’s not the big player. Just because some people are unsure of Moth’s tactics doesn’t mean he’ll not be able to do his job- and Chat Noir and Ladybug will be alright without him.”  
    “Well, that’s not true is it?” The words came out of Adrienne quiet, but with more passion than she had intended. Maron turned to stare at him like a deer in the headlights. She hesitated, she always felt guilty cornering Maron it was so obvious that she made him nervous.  The small boy had eyes that reminded her of the color of an afternoon sky when he managed to meet her gaze.  
    “Moth isn’t a small-time player.” she began gently “He has helped in ways we could have never expected.” “If you ask me, I think that he’s brought Paris closer together. Because of his powers, people want to help out in attacks personally to become heroes.” her tone softened more with affection “It’s not just limited to the people in Paris either. I’ve been abroad, and Moth is the superhero people are talking about. Paris has become the city where any regular person can become a superhero, and people want to visit here just to get a chance to be a part of that. That’s something that no other superhero could do. The world is intrigued him, they want to help. Shouldn’t we encourage that?”  
    Maron looked like he was about to say something, maybe argue with her, in fact- Adrienne sort of hoped that he would! She was dying to hear some sort of opinion from the boy who seemed to reserve his arguments when talking to her for some reason. Instead, he sort of shrank into himself, turning a deeper shade of pink.  
    “Whoah. Maron may be right.” Said Nina  
    Alan raised an eyebrow at her.  
    “I'm serious!” Nina suddenly looked wide-eyed “If someone finds his address, what if they try to sue Moth for… like… intellectual property infringement?”  
    “His what?”  
    “Look all I know is that cryptozoologists in America have some beef with the dude for stealing their Mothman's thunder. If they find out where he is, homeboy is in for some sternly written letters.”  
    Maron burst out laughing, startling them all. He had his face buried in one hand, and his cheeks flushed. It was a little nervous laugh, but a genuine one, and a very welcome sound. Adrienne couldn’t help but snort, so did Alan. Nina grinned, satisfied that he’d broken some unspoken tension.  
    Why didn't Maron laugh out loud like this more often when they hung out?  
    “Don’t worry,” Alan reassured once Maron settled down “If we can find the Moth with the app ourselves, maybe we can work something out with him. We won’t out him to the public authorities. We have to try this though, and we know that Moth is in Paris, so it’s a start, right?”  
    Maron sighed, and shrugged, a smile still ghosting his face.  
    Adrienne felt herself relax. Maron reminded just how fragile and important their secret identities were, how important they were to Moth Had she not gotten the hint from Moth that he did not want to be found, even by his teammates? She had always respected that, she would always respect that.  
    “Aaaand installed!” Nina said, passing Adrienne’s phone back, with the purple map on the surface “You two are officially Bug Catchers. Just remember to be safe when you use this. I managed to get completely stuck when Jules went full Tuxedo Mask yesterday because I wasn’t looking where I was going.”  
    “I’m surprised you know who Tuxedo Mask is.” Alan laughed  
    “I’m hip with pop culture!” Nina shot back. The two began an argument.  
    “Do you… think you’ll use it?” Maron murmured furtively to Adrienne, as the conversation digressed.  
    “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll have much of a chance to.” she gently nudged him with her elbow “But with what I have seen from your problem-solving skills I wouldn’t be surprised if you find him yourself.”

 

    He couldn’t have imagined how this day could have gone any worse. That was saying quite a lot, considering this afternoon included sitting shoulder to shoulder with Adrienne, winning a compliment from her and getting her phone number.  
    Maron sat on his bed and stared at the open purple home screen of the Bug Catcher app with a mixture of intrigue and low-key panic. He had to admit, he was a little betrayed that Alan hadn’t let it slip to him what he was working on. Maron had already guessed that Alan had a pretty big surprise up his sleeve, he’d had hinted at it for weeks. Now he had a definitive answer to where Alan and Nina had been running off to for the past couple of months (which, whether or not they were dating was still a bit unclear to him).  
    He understood why; it had been Maxine’s invention. She had been wary about making it public and had asked Alan to keep it secret until she knew that it worked, and Alan had kept his word. Despite that, that boy sure knew how to persuade others, he doubted anyone other than Alan could have sold such a strong case to let it go public.  
    He scrolled the app over the where butterfly sightings were spaced out on its UI…  
    36 and Pierrot…. 27 and London…  
    One or two of them were startlingly close to his neighborhood.  
    “That was single-handedly the funniest conversation I’ve heard with my own two antennae.” Nooroo squeaked when they finally had a moment alone “Our Butterflies give off a Wi-Fi signal? No way!”  
    “Do you think it is possible?” said Maron  
    “No!” Nooroo said with a hint of indignation. Then hesitated “You can’t just … pf… categorize kwami magic with a man-made object. Without a miraculous, we can’t be seen or sensed by humans in any way.”  
    “But, isn’t that why miraculous were made? Your magic must have had some effect on us if humans were aware of you at some point. Why not something like a WiFi signal?”  
    Nooroo made a distressed sound. His face cycled from surprise, to worry to disbelief.  
    “The miraculous were made a long time ago, we’re talking about cell phones here. I’ve not even heard of a-” Nooroo made tiny air quotes with his tiny limbs “-Wi-Fi- until today.” he finally folded his wings upon himself. “Master Maron, this is particularly worrisome.”  
    Maron gazed at the phone myropically. Leave it to Alan to find totally awesome marketing designs- a big white butterfly logo splashed on a purple background and make it totally legit to download.  
    “Could you imagine if we could use this app to find out where Mayura is hiding?”  
    “Or find you.” Nooroo added with the same worried tone.  
    “Right, or find me.” Maron repeated, and scrubbed a hand over his face “Nooroo, what am I going to do? I’ve been using my bedroom as a safe place to transform when I needed to in a pinch. If this tracker really works, then that means I can’t use this place anymore unless Alan wants to find both Moth AND my secret identity.” As if to punctuate this point, another small, white butterfly landed on his shoulder, fluttering its wings innocently. Maron took a quick glance around. There were at least five more sunning themselves in his room at random corners.  
    He didn’t know where they came from. He didn’t invite them in here, maybe he’d have to start shutting his bedroom window from now on, but they seemed to be able to squeeze in almost anywhere.  
    “We don’t even know if this… application… actually works.” Nooroo said cautiously, but he seemed unconvinced.  
    “Then that should be the first thing we should find out.”  
    Moth’s reflexes carried him silently from chimney to rooftop to window ledge. He negotiated traffic light like the camera flash of paparazzi and danced through the rest of Paris with relative ease without the fear of being spotted. Most people this late at night were not looking ‘up’, and his dark, mauve costume blended near seamlessly into the wine-colored sky.  
    He twirled his staff for balance, an instrument that was usually reserved for transmission purposes. He knew that it housed a sword at its heart, but he never had to use it before. For the first time since the first day he’d donned the outfit, he now could imagine a day where he might need it.  
    The last thing he needed while he was trying to help Chat Noir and Ladybug were to have a pedestrian trying to hunt him down. He had to give the benefit of his undivided attention and support to his superhero, on that fact he could not budge. Alan had seemed convinced that the Bug Catcher would make finding someone willing to become a superhero easier, but he wasn’t aware of the work Moth did to find a hero. Maron had wanted to explain it to him…  
    … but not as Maron.  
    Using it to find Mayura was still an idea that he could get behind. If it worked, maybe he could just convince them not to release it.  
    City light danced across the old dusty floorboards of his chosen arena. Behind him, the gentle flutter of wings trialed, like the soft rustle of papers. A moldy glow of white, like little will-o-wisps, trailed his footsteps, irresistibly attracted to whatever it energy that thrummed within the miraculous brooch that he wore. For better or for worse, wherever he went, they would inevitably appear, collecting just when he needed them.  
    Standing in the glow of an empty stage, he let his mind go blank. His senses pulled back from the empty building he stood in, then expanded, weightless, pulling through a haze of emotional activity that welled up from the nightlife below.  
    Alan’s house was across town from here. His omniscience felt the emotional warmth from inside the home where Alan lived. Two little boys just settling in for the night, still awake and full of mischief, but resigned to their beds and giggling quietly to each other. He sensed Alan’s older brother working to his evening routine, thoughts filled with purpose and energy.  
    Alan was there, and he was in a good mood. No, not just a good mood, a great mood. Today had been a really good day for him, he was excited and hopeful.  
    Maron wordlessly gestured with an outstretched arm, and a butterfly landed gingerly on his fingertips and fanning its wings out. He studied it a moment allowing his power to seep towards it, it’s already opalescent wings shimmered with the power he granted it.  
    “Fly to him.”

 

    There were ten messages and a missed phone call waiting on Adrienne’s phone. She saw that the screen lit up several times at a distance in between photo shoots. She worried it was her mom but when she finally got to it she was surprised to see Alan’s calling card on the screen. The rest of the texts were from Nina and Maxine, each one with increasing misspellings.  
    Bro. Open the Bug Catcher… Nina’s last text urged  
    There was one attachment from Alan in a group chat. Adrienne opened it, ignoring the still pinging notifications. It was a blurry picture of a white butterfly on a windowsill.  
    She stood in silence, scrolled up to read the previous messages and read more carefully. A back and forth between the two girls quickly confirmed the fluttering feeling in her chest:  
    Alan had one of Moth’s butterflies in his house. 

 **Adrienne: Is Alan still home?**  
**Nina: No idea! He said he is launching a video stream.**

    “Miss Agreste!” a voice startled her. “Are you going home in that outfit?”  
    “No, sorry-!” Adrienne was about ready to waltz out of the studio in full gown get up. She charged back into the fitting room to slip out of the dress.  
    “I can’t believe this.” She eyed her phone, which vibrated across the vanity with yet more messages. “I shouldn’t have booked a session for today.”  
    “Then why do you?” Plagg called shortly, swiveling around the room and peering at the phone with interest “No one is making you do it.”  
    “I know. That’s not why.”  
    “Then why?”  
    “Well, it’s because,” she paused, half frozen in hiking up her pants. She was about to say ‘because that’s what dad wanted’, but that wasn’t exactly true. She doubted her father would approve of what sort of direction she was taking her modeling. Nor where she was leading the remains of the liquidated Gabriel brand. Her father instituted his brand around high fashion couture, and for the past year, Adrienne had dived feet first into artistic street fashion. The carefully crafted brand her father had made (whatever was left of it) no longer bore the identity it once did.  
    “I guess it’s because I’m holding on to some part of dad. Besides, I enjoy modeling, especially on my own terms.” Modeling wasn’t the only thing she couldn’t give up. Chinese, fencing, piano… the parts she could access to her father.  
    She peered at the phone. Nothing new from Alan.  
    Jules, and now Alan, she thought. That was two people she knew personally that the Moth had granted superpowers.  
    “Something wild must be going on if Moth is making a such a move.”  
    “Are we going out?” Plagg squealed in protest “I haven’t eaten dinner-”  
    “Hold on-”  
    Adrienne pulled her bag a part searching for a crumb of camembert. She had to think. normally she’d call her bodyguard to pick her up, but and make sure Nathanial saw her returned home safely, but she didn’t want to take all that time.  
    Adrienne opened up the chat where Nina and Maxine had fallen strangely silent- probably scouring the Bug Catcher app for pings. So far, there were no reports of a peafowl attack on the newsfeeds.  
    Then, quite suddenly, she heard a familiar, booming voice from outside…

 

    Maron paced between a kaleidoscope of butterflies that had gathered around on stage. He plucked at the satiny folds of his outfit and the great, fluffy ruff that fringed the collar of his suit. He could tell exactly how close Alan was to him, as the distance gap between them narrowed by minutes. Then seconds.  
    That sharp enthusiasm from Sir Wifi was more intense that he had anticipated. The emotion wildly intensified the closer he drew to the building.  
    “Moth?”  
    It was Alan’s voice but emboldened with power. It echoed strangely from the back of the empty theatre. It was odd to Maron to not communicate to his hero through the mind and to hear his voice spoken in person. With the house lights on, it was harder to see his approach, but he felt his presence, and the swell of an emotion of delight. Maron placed both gloved hands on the top of his staff.  
    “Hello Sir Wifi.“ he called out to the hero. Maron caught just the slightest intake of breath. A pair of bright, violet eyes stared up at him from the empty seats.  
    “You’re surprised?” Maron prompted, sensing the shift in emotion.  
    “… I’m just taking this all in.” The hero emerged into the light. He was beaming. “I can’t believe this is actually happening right now.”  
    “I know.” Maron couldn’t help but smile.  
    “Are those antennae on your head?” Maron had to stop himself from bursting out into a chuckle at his best friend. He had a persona to uphold.  
    “We don’t have a lot of time to spend together Sir WiFi, so let us begin.” he gestured “I granted you your powers because I felt an overwhelming desire to discover the truth. With the technology you’ve been working on, it seems that would soon be within your grasp.”  
    “Even without superpowers, I knew I’d be able to track you down eventually.” Sir WiFi professed “Maxine was right, your powers do give off something like a WiFi signal.” He gestured to his phone, the stem of his power Maron given him. The screen was glowing bright violet. “Is that why you gave me these powers?”  
    “To further help you prove your theory on how my powers might work.” Maron nodded “It’s possible Mayura’s powers may also work in same way.”  
    “I’m glad you see how this could help you find her!”  
    “However,” Maron continued “We have a few things to discuss, don’t we?”  
    “Absolutely.” With a flick of his finger across the screen of Sir Wifi’s phone, a bright emblem of a video camera illuminated the stage in the air. The second flick of his wrist sprung a second projection before them, playing the image of the Moth on stage.  
    Then with gusto Maron always knew was inside of Alan, the interview began.

  

 **“Hello viewers,”** The voice filled the entire fashion studio “I’m here tonight for an exclusive interview of the Moth, the anonymous superhero of Paris.”  Adrienne burst from her dressing room and ran outside the studio. Models and photographers were following her in curiosity or were already there peering out the windows.  There was a great moving projection in the Paris skyline - like a movie theatre screen stretched buildings long, hung among the stars.  
    “I’m your host, Sir WiFi.” the voice was large enough to encompass the entire city. Adrienne took in the shock of a black and white costume. Alan was fully masked and beaming into the camera with confidence she’d seen on him more pronounced as a superhero.  
    The words were barely registering with her. Was this actually happening?  
    Moth never entertained company. He certainly didn’t even entertain recorded interviews.  
    “Moth,” said Sir Wifi “Thank you for having me this evening, and for choosing me to be able to film you for your public appearance debut.” Adrienne kept her eyes locked on the sky and nearly ran into the glass exit door while trying to go outside, not tearing her eyes away from the projection.  
    The camera shifted away from Sir Wifi, for a moment catching the flare of bright light. Adrienne craned her neck so far forward in her seat that her shoulders hit the limit of her seatbelt. The giant sky widescreen came into focus on a silhouette. For a moment, all of Adrienne’s preconceptions of Moth jousted for space. When she first caught wind of Moth’s cunning personality, she had begun wondering about what sort of face went with it. Was he tall? Dark? Brooding? With so little to go on, her imagination did tend to go a little wild during those slow moments in chemistry class.  
    Now he was staring down from the sky, illuminated by dramatic stage light like a celestial body. Baby blues, hints of silver and lavender costume, and raven black hair. A butterfly mask.  
    “Thank you for accepting my invitation Sir WiFi.” his voice was calm and collected and pervaded the entire city.    
    “I know where he is.” the words left her unbidden.  
    The more that she scrutinized the background of the projection, the more she was convinced that she recognized the stage curtains behind Moth’s figure. Then the barely visible the crumbling brick wall, and and the bare Edison bulbs draped like dead vines overhead. This was was a civic theatre across the seaway. An old, famous acting stage that was currently being restored. Her mother had taken her there for acting lessons at a point in time.  
    She knew exactly the shortest way to get there.  
    “Why haven’t you revealed yourself to the public before now?”  
    Maron thought that he would be nervous during the interview, but now that Sir WiFi was standing before him, sharing their emotive connection, he just felt like he was standing next to his best friend. Despite keeping a cool demeanor, he felt the terrible tension within him relax.  
    “I remain anonymous to better protect the people of Paris and better help superheroes. My powers allow me to help over a long distance, so I am not needed on the scene of conflict. It would have been only a matter of time before I was going to be discovered by someone curious enough to try and find me. Better it to be not during an attack.”  
    “How do you choose your champions in the fight against Mayura?”  
    “I seek positive emotions and desires to find the right superhero, but I also look for the right person to meet the unique challenges posed by each of Mayura’s guardians.”  
    “Sounds tricky.”  
    “It can be, if I cannot bide my time, but ”  
    “But most people seem to really want to be superheroes.” WiFi took a casual seat at the edge of the stage (the camera swiveled to him of its own accord). “In fact, much of the world is talking about Paris right now, headlines are toting it as the ‘superhero city’, instead of the city of love.”  
    Now that it was brought up, Maron had to agree that most people jumped at the chance to become a superhero when he offered it. He suspected that his words must have carried some weight of magical temptation as the Moth, but he liked to draw on his confidence and positivity to assure them of their heroic role. The idea that anyone could become _anything_ , to be the hero that they wanted to be was glamorous.  
    Occasionally, some refused the offer. Maron always respectfully relinquished his offer to those who declined. Unfortunately, this would leave him with the added pressure to find another volunteer were every moment was crucial.  
    “I don’t just pick a random person off the street who may be in a good mood. Just because someone wants to become a superhero, doesn’t mean they are the right choice. They need the right motive to help and protect those around them. I choose responsibly.”  
    Sir WiFi hummed. He was taking mental notes, Maron could see it. Feel it. He had the same studious, calculating expression on Alan’s face he was used to seeing in the classroom.  
    “What about your relationship to Chat Noir and Ladybug?”  
    “They are incredible partners and superheroes.” Maron began without hesitation “I’ve seldom reached out to them personally for my limits in power. Ladybug is as mysterious to me as she is to anyone, but she and Chat Noir are an incredible duo, their powers compliment and balance each another out. Ladybug has been committed to finding and defeating Mayura longer than any of us, with Chat Noir’s help, I know she will do that.”  
    “It seems as though she wants to find you too.”  
    “She’s mentioned as much.” he nodded “Although I’ve not had the chance to ask her why that is.”  
    “Well, now that you are on the air, is there anything you might want to say to Ladybug, wherever she may be now?”  
    For the first time since the interview started, Maron felt himself grow uneasy. A message to Ladybug. The thought that she might be watching the broadcast from somewhere in the world put him on edge.  
    “Ladybug,” he began “If you are willing to speak with me, I would be interested in meeting with you, as a partner and an ally that you can trust. We have a lot to discuss.”  
    Sir WiFi nodded.  
    “Let’s hope she’s watching tonight. What do you think of the strange rifts that have been appearing around the world, the ones that Ladybug seems to use? Or the missing people that typically vanish after Mayura’s attacks?”  
    “That’s a question I’d like to ask her. I assume it’s part of Mayura’s powers, or hers. As for the missing people, I hope she can shed some light on that. I assume it has something to do with Mayura, but, Ladybug might know more than she has been able to reveal publicly. If she knows a way to stop the disappearances I want to help.”  
    “What about your relationship Chat Noir?”  
    A smile returned to Maron’s face, the pressure on his shoulders from talking about Ladybug lifted instantly. Ladybug aside, the chances of Chat Noir was watching this right now. were far more likely.  
    “We’re very lucky to have Chat Noir here in Paris.” he said “She’s always able to play off of the superheroes I send her way. I have the utmost trust in her.”  
    “Seems as though she wants to find you too.”  
    Perhaps for not the same reasons as Ladybug, Maron thought wryly.  
    “When the timing is right, I would enjoy that.” Chat Noir’s gentle persistence in meeting him in person was a little baffling, especially since he was able to reach out to her directly with transmission powers when he had the power to do so. If he didn’t know better, it sure seemed like she had a personal investment of some kind. The few times that he had reached out to Chat, he’d felt her curiosity honed in on him like a tracking radar.  
    “Why do you think of Mayura’s increasing attacks on Paris?”  
    “Mayura desires the powers that we all use. There was always interest was always in Ladybug, but the focus might have moved to Chat Noir and myself.”  
    “Do you think we can expect more attacks in the future then?”  
    “I do not know,” he stepped forward “but I will do everything to protect Paris and her people. Mayura will be defeated, I won’t stop until she is.”  
    Sir WiFi seemed satisfied.  
    “I want to ask so many more questions, but I sense that our time is nearly up, isn’t it?”  
    Maron gave a nod, The hero turned to face the broadcast for a send-off, and Maron felt a small wave of relief. So far, this was going really well.  
    “There you have it folks, thank you for tuning in! We’ll catch you next time.” Sir WiFi said as he swiped off the broadcast  
    “So.” he stepped on to the stage to join him, carefully navigating through the clustering butterflies “Are you going to transform back any time soon?”  
    “Not quite.”  
    “But don’t your powers have a time limit?” he tilted his head “Like Chat Noirs?”  
    “You are observant.” he nodded “But we have a little bit of time left, off the record.  
    “WiFi’s eyes lit up.”  
    “In fact,” Maron ventured “I really need to talk to you about this application that you’ve developed.”  
    “The Bug Catcher.” Sir WiFi supplied “How did you hear about it?”  
    “I’m a reader of your Blog.”  
    “I knew it.” Sir WiFi grinned. “You are the anonymous poster that helped us with this right?”  
    Marons confused silence seemed to cement an answer in WiFis mind.  
    “I knew it had to be someone who knew about your powers,”  he smiled “no one else could have had that intimate information but you.” Maron’s stomach tightened. Markov did mention that they had help on the Moth Monthly from an online poster.  
    "Whoever tipped you about this information knows a dangerous amount about how my powers work." He said. "I wouldn't just give that information freely."  
    “Well then If it wasn't you..." Alan trailed, be his expression changed to concentration  
    “Does the application work?” Maron decided to keep the subject away from how he knew about the secret app in the first place.  
    “Well, yeah. Take a look, This whole place is lit up.” He flashed him the screen of his phone, where the map indicated a bright smattering of butterfly icons. “Anyone will be able to find your butterflies now. Now that I know this works, we can use this to help you and find Mayura!”  
    "You still plan to release it to the public then." Maron felt his disappointment surface. Alan was so tenacious, his own will power rivaled his own. Convincing him would be rough.  
    “Well, yeah, of course. This app is almost useless if only a couple people use it. It’s meant to be used by everyone, the world even. There won’t be a place for Mayura to hide anymore.”  
    “I must ask you, to not release this information to the public.”  
    Sir WiFi glanced up in surprise.  
    “I thought you said…” his expression began to shift “Didn’t you say this would help?” Maron took his staff in hand, leaned against it as he continued to inspect the glittering screen.  
    “This was invented with good intentions, but it could also be used to harm. I might not be able to help Chat Noir if I’m dodging civilians who want to become heroes. What is more, if I transform back to my secret identity and those nearby find me, I’ll be exposed. There will also be those who might use this device against me, anyone who had the application who Mayura targets with her guardians, will be able to use it to track me down.” Maron rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. “It puts too many people in a dangerous situation.”  
    He felt emotions course through the mind of the hero. Conflicted, hurt, confused, then a sudden, unexpected stab of anger, one that made him withdraw his hand in surprise.  
    “You give me powers, lead me on with this idea that I could make a difference, that everyone could make a difference, and then you tell me I should destroy all the work?”  
    “I didn’t say destroy,” Maron started, taken aback at the shift to negative emotions. He felt a dynamic change between their psychic link, like a ripple, almost like Alan was resisting him.  
    “But it’s useless without the city using it! Ladybug is doing her best out there, but people are still disappearing to who knows where! We’ve been lucky that hasn’t happened yet in Paris, but I think it’s only a matter of time. Yesterday, my classmate was attacked. Anyone of us in the school could have been the next one to vanish! Maybe me, or any one of my friends. I can’t just wait around for that to happen.”  
    Sir Wifi stepped close into his face  
    “I want to trust you Moth, but I have one last question for you. Are you ANY closer to finding Mayura than when you first started?”  
    “I am not.” he admitted calmly “But this isn’t the right way of finding that out.”  
    The defiance glowed in the hero  
    Don’t make me stop you, Maron thought.  
    WiFis eyes widened. He had felt the thought, the intent alone-  
    "Moth, I would stop you before you tried!" The passion in him flared like a solar star, Maron resisted the urge to squint as a dynamic change surged between their psychic link. Alan was resisting him. The power of the anger he felt was entirely terrifying-  
    Maron grasped for the powers within his friend and yanked.  
    It was an awful feeling, taking powers away. Alan’s body jerked, his back arched and his head tossed back as he let out a surprised yelp. From his phone burst the white butterfly, like it was being spat out- and it tumbled towards Maron, flapping its wings drunkenly.  
    Purple magic danced over Sir Wifi’s form to reveal Alan’s clothes, he was still in his pajamas. Alan teetered dropped to his knees- but Maron met him halfway, supporting him with one arm.  
    He didn’t take his memories away. They were still intact, still fresh. Alan was shocked, but the passion was still there- as strong as it had been as Sir Wifi, although now much more bewildered.  
    “I’m sorry for doing this” Maron peered into his friends face, which screwed up into a maelstrom of emotions. “We need to talk.”  
    “Talk?!” Alan said, his brows knit “You still want to talk huh-?"

    Something was happening-  
    Alan’s face went blank. His grip on Maron's arm slacked, and for a moment, a very long, silent moment... Maron felt something shiver up his spine in alarm- he felt something awful-  
    He felt Alan disappear.  
    His stormy emotions, confusion, and anger, they dissolved before Maron's senses in a wave of concussive, vacumous energy, which rippled over Alan’s form, forcing Maron’s hand away. A sweep of energy swooped up in a blink of an eye and unfurled gracefully upward. Maron was no longer looking down, but gazing upward-  
    A tall, sleek woman towered over him in the spot where his best friend once kneeled. Maron was first only aware of her aura, focused, and purposeful, replacing Alan’s altogether. In the vague glow of the stage, she looked like a ghost, her skin pale, but her sharp eyes glowed a penetrating fuschia under dark, heavy lashes. Her sleek dress was fitted with pavonated feathers… peacock feathers, Maron realized.  
    “Ah.” the woman breathed “Le Papillon. Finally.”  
    “Wha-?” he scrambled to his feet and took a step back from her shadow, blinking madly. He stretched his senses towards her in vain as if he were caught in a fever dream- that he was only imagining the nightmare advancing towards him, and that Alan was still somewhere behind her. He couldn’t sense him anywhere except for a tight-knit core of very dark power that was emanating from the looming figure.  
    His friend was gone. Whatever this was, it was no illusion.  
    “Do not be afraid.” The woman’s voice was soft. She took a step forward, and the heel of her stiletto made a sharp clack that echoed across the stage. Maron took another step back himself and drew the sword from his staff. His body was prepared to react, but his mind was still quite unwilling to accept what he was seeing. His eyes finally wandered the woman’s indigo dress and spotted a small pin, like a peafowls fantail appliqued there.  
    “Mayura.” he said in flat disbelief  
    “At your behest,” the woman’s voice was soft, and curiously amused “I am here to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, I take illustration requests for chapter scenes :) Thank you for stopping to read this very outlandish story.


	3. Mayura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mayura wrecks shop  
> (-more illustrations at the end)

    “Where did you take Alan?”  
    For every step Mayura took towards him, Maron took a calculated step back, not allowing the distance between them close by a fraction.  
    “Safe.” the woman replied, “I can assure you.”  
    His consciousness spooled around the room like medusa tendrils- filling up every corner of the stage, bursting out of the blackened windows, seeking any emotive scrap of his missing friend. He thrust his senses out into the Paris streets, stretched his omniscience across the neighborhood. His instinct possessed him, he HAD to be nearby. He had to make Mayura talk… to reveal him.  
    “Seductive, isn’t it?” her voice cut into the pregnant silence “Your powers. I commend you for using them so thoughtfully, despite not taking advantage of their full strength.”  
    “What would you know of it?” Maron leveled his sword towards her. She peered around the mirrored blade, unfazed.  
    “Our miraculous are reflections of each another. Out of all of the jewels, yours and my own yield a delicate complexity that not many are able to wield responsibly.”  
    “Wield responsibly?” Maron quoted with an edge “Do you call what you’re doing with the peacock Miraculous responsible?”  
    Her dark lips curled into a smile.  
    “The situation in which you find yourself must appear so frustratingly simple, and I must profess that I am envious of that. A part of me that regrets that I must be the one to enlighten you to the storm that surrounds you.”  
    “The only storm here is you.” Maron scowled “You’re wreaking havoc on the entire planet, and hurting countless people in the process. I’m not here to listen to lies. You are going to give up your miraculous tonight, Mayura.”  As he spoke, he took careful inventory of his surroundings. Any options for an attack were severely limited, he couldn’t wrangle in a hero to assist him, for he did not feel enough positive emotions of anyone nearby. Most citizens were already asleep at this hour, and he felt that it was well beyond his limit of power anyway.  
    “Let me assure you,” Mayura tutted “I am not here to play games.”  
    Maron began to circle her with his weapon still raised. She, in turn, mimicked his movements. Butterflies swirled around their legs, disturbed by their strange, rotating dance on the stage, like the figurines in a silent music box.  
    “The fate of world’s existence teeters on the edge of a knife, Le Papillon. It has for years.” she outstretched a feather wreathed arm, her sharp fingers pinched together in a point “Up until now, it has been held together by bare threads, and it will be only a short matter of time before the last of them will snap, and you… as well as I and everyone in this world will be wiped from history.” Maron slowed in his pace. He saw how Mayura studied him just as carefully as he was her, mapping him step for step. Why doesn’t she just attack? The thought whispered in the back of his mind. Another thought immediately answered it ‘She has something planned, don’t let her fool you.’  
    “That’s hard to believe.” he said “Given your track record. What could be threatening the world at large other than yourself?”  
    “Ladybug.” the name cut like a menace in the dark. “She has worked systematically to complete her goal, despite my best efforts to stop her. At this rate, she will win. This world as we know will be completely lost. I have grown desperate, Le Papillon. I believe that you may be the instrumental key to stopping her.”  
Maron narrowed his eyes  
    “… well I’ll be buggered.” he heard the waking incredulity in his tone “You’re about to ask me to partner up with you, aren’t you?”  
    “You would happily join my side if you knew just what was at stake.” Mayura lifted her a hand to her face, and Maron tensed, waiting for her to draw a weapon. He noticed that she now stood underneath the pendulous headlights overhead, and he couldn’t help but scan the many slung ropes that suspended them.  
    “For both of our sakes, I believe would be much, much faster, if instead of explaining what I mean that I should simply show you.”

    He barely had time to react.  
   

    In two strides Mayura was in his space - her hand reaching beyond his sword with a casual ease that he was able to dodge by mere inches. He was forced to roll to the side, eclipsed by the shadow of the dress that swooped over him. He sprung quickly to the ropes that he had eyed out and slashed the sword through the old fibers, cutting them easily.  
The stage lights plunged raucously from the high ceiling to the stage with a shuddering crash that splintered glass and wood. Mayura arced gracefully back, then turned back to him, lunged over the wreckage with the train of her dress fan tailing gracefully like a many pink-eyed beast. Maron dashed out of her path.  
He needed high ground.  
    His blade found and slashed and cut at new ropes in passing. A long and slippery screech of old pulley wheels spun and handle of the brail wound madly like a top. Maron grabbed on to the ascending rope and was hoisted into the air as its counterweight arbor plummeted. The heavy curtain fell, snuffed out the remaining light and separated him from the villain. He found himself in the loft above the stage, space where actors would normally be harnessed in order to be dangled above the stage.  
He pulled himself up on the precarious footing and heard the snap of a fan from somewhere in the dark.  
    “We do not have time for this.”  
    The whistle of a fan sliced through the air. He instinctively ducked, only guessing at the origin of the weapon. He spotted a blur of pink eyes in the dark-  and he slashed forward. If he could JUST get her off-balance-  
    Mayura did not dodge his attack. In the soft, fuschia glow of her eyes, he saw the tip of his sword pierce the center of her fan tool and twisted it. She wrenched the weapon from his grasp and he watched it twirl nearly a hundred feet to clatter to the floor below, sending up a plume of butterflies. Maron ducked as Mayura swung another attack his way. The rigging swung wildly-  
How in the world is she doing this in high heels?  
    “I can reveal to you the true potential of your miraculous.” Maron spotted see the vague shape of what looked like a loading gallery nearly at his eye level, and he jumped for it-  
    -he was yanked backward- pulled, spun- with a tremendous C-RACK he found himself pinned to unforgiving metal. The strain of pullies and the creak old ropes swung him in the air like a pendulum. Like a butterfly caught in a spiders web. One of his arms was pinned by a sharp heel. He blocked an attack from the villain with the remaining scabbard of his staff. Mayura kneeled. The soft, plush feathers of her dress brushed up against his face. Without thought, Maron reached for her miraculous, which glinted just inches out of his reach, but she caught his hand easily in a powerful, unrelenting grip, her expression undaunted.  
    Something… was happening.  
    He felt the air being squeezed from his lungs. He sensed butterflies were swarming in alarm down below, taking flight everywhere in confusion. As he tried to focus on the villain, he felt as though was drowning in an ocean of glowing magenta eyespots, his vision of Mayura had doubled, tripled, then blurred- vibrated between two- ten twenty- a hundred points. He couldn’t feel his body- like he was being pulled somewhere -

  
    _Fuschia … black… violet… red…._

 _  
_     “It’s rather unpleasant …” he sensed that her voice was close- yet it sounded like it was coming from a tunnel very far away “Isn’t it?”

    “ARRRGH!” _  
_

    he yelled- but it wasn’t his voice that he heard-

    He had the vague understanding that he was falling-that was going to splat like a bug on a windshield-

 

    …. slowly, he became aware that he was sitting, no… he was… being held. Being cradled, actually, in a pair of what had to be very strong arms.  
    Out of the buzzing, terrible, spinning disorientation of black and red…. the world around him took the semblance of shape.  
   The first real thing he recognized were a pair of eyes that looked like they could swallow up the whole world in their glowing green. He recognized that hue of green. He was surprised to see how expressive the eyes were up close. He reached a hand out without thinking, just to make sure of himself. His hand met the shoulder of a very real, very solid, and warm person.  
   “Chat Noir?” he began, then remembered exactly where he was. He became aware that she was holding him bridal style.  
   “Sorry that I’m so late Monsieur. I figured you wouldn’t mind me showing up given the situation.” she began to lower him, but Maron’s knees splayed out from under his weight as soon as they met the floor. He sagged against the superheroine for support.  
    “Are you okay?” she asked, more seriously  
    “I’ll be fine.” Maron’s own voice sounded strange to him, and it took an effort to speak “Mayura did something to me.” despite himself, he found that he was relieved. “It’s good to see you Chat.” he smiled at her “How did you ever find me? You weren't spying now were you?”  
    There came a small, affronted gasp.  
    “I am not a peeping tomcat mon Monsieur, but I had a little bug on the wall.” Together they glanced to the single spotlight flickering over the ruin of twisted, metal skeletons of overhead equipment. Cataclysm dust swirled through the wreckage in small, ashen eddies.  
Maron had absolutely no recollection of what had transpired there.  
His miraculous beeped, and Chat arms stiffed around him. From center stage, a figure rose like a dark phoenix from ashes, her movements disjointed in the flickering of the light. She turned to face them, her face unreadable for a moment.  
    “You are just delaying the inevitable.”  
    “Chat… she’s taken the citizen that I gave powers so.”  Chat Noir glanced at him in surprise  
    “Where?”  
    “… I… don’t know-” as Mayura began to approach, his vision rapidly began to deteriorate. He heard his miraculous beep three times.  
    “Call me a scaredy cat,” Chat Noir said, her eyes trained on the villain. “but we can’t handle this right now.”  
    “You’re right.”  
    “Hang on to me tight, Monsieur!”  
    Maron managed to do so as the whirr of Chat’s staff twirled from her hand. He was supported with her free arm, his arm braced around her neck, and they dashed. Chat jabbed her staff forward like a lance, shattering a window.  
They jumped in sync- tucked and curled as they hurtled through the newly made escape, then they plummeted- in a blur of neons and orange city light. Maron felt the brick building wall nearly graze his skull as the ground spread out before him.  Then, in earth shifting perspective, he was quite suddenly NOT plummeting, but sailing upwards. He glimpsed spinning stars, tried to orient his sense of direction before the force of a landing brought him to his senses.  
Behind them, he heard an explosion.  
    “Well, look like she’s summoned a sentimonster,” said Chat. Maron glanced over his shoulder, caught the shadow of a nightmare pursuing them down the wall. A giant, insectoid-like creature, with a spikey carapace and pinchers half the size of its body.  
He heard his miraculous beep three times. As he moved to stand, he still felt dizzy.  
    What did Mayura do to him?  
   “Chat-”  
   “Don’t worry, I got you!”  
    She swept him up in both arms without hesitation, and threw her weight forward. Explosions of insectoid feet throwing its weight into construction lines and crashed clumsily into architecture in pursuit of its prey. Maron felt gravity shift as he fell with Chat, her hair hefted into a wild, golden halo and she pulled him close when they fell weightless into some unseen abyss.  He had no idea where this woman was taking her. He only knew that in about a minute, she would be holding Maron Dupain-Cheng, and it would be all over from there. He heard an angry roar from behind them, distorted and tinny as if stretched down a long tunnel.  
    “Watch your head Monsieur!”  
    He ducked into her grasp. They were taking a bizarre, winding route under what looked to be a decorative metro archway. Despite it being pitch dark, he could still see the burning green of Chat’s eyes as she scanned ahead of them, taking quick changes in direction, seeing things that he clearly could not. They swerved left, right, left again. Then they dropped once more. He smelled steely air and damp concrete and felt a boom echo distantly behind them.  
    “Where are we?”  
    “This is Paris Métro. It’ll be a bit dark, where we are going is technically not allowed.”  A loud protest of rusty hinges and a pressure change in the air gave Maron the dim sense that they were entering another, smaller underground structure. He could see vague, dark shapes in the gloomy underground construction, and ruddy light gave description to a decrepit train station platform. There was no one else here. The only sound came from both of the superheroes breathing side by side, and the echoing chirps of two spent miraculous warning the dark.  
    “Can you stand?”  
    “Yes, thank you.” mercifully, his sense of spacial awareness snapped back to him. Chat stepped away, her warmth vanishing into the dark in an instant. Maron could hardly see the outline of her black costume in the dim.  
    “There’s a way out over here,” she called. “it will bring us just west of the city proper.”  
    “Did you say this is the Paris Métro?  
    “Technically, this is an old ghost station, no trains will be rolling in here. There’s quite a few of these all over the network, but this one is accessible to the public.” a pause “Er, technically I made it accessible to the public a while ago. By accident, but I don’t think anyone else has found out about it yet. I’ve used it a couple of times to transform when I’ve been in a purr-dicament.”  Maron felt a mixture of amusement and the urge to admonish his feline friend- but in the dark, his brooch strung out one last warning.  
    “As I said before! I’m not a peeping Tomcat.” Noir’s footsteps clattered up the nearby stairwell and heard a noisy crash. “Yikes! There’s a nefarious trash can up here.”  
    “Chat-?” he called out and was interrupted by magical energy that swept up from the soles of his feet all the way to the tip of his nose. He stood in the dark, in his civilian clothes.  
    “Yes Monsieur?” there was a quiet concern from up the stairs.   
    “When you are recharged, try drawing the sentimonster away from here. Mayura took A... the civilian somewhere hidden. I could no longer sense him.”  Maron did not have the time to assess exactly what had happened yet in the old theatre. He knew that Alan had been angry, and then in the next moment Mayura had taken his place.  
    What sort of power did Mayura have exactly? Or, perhaps, it wasn’t really Alan he'd been talking to at all. He’d seen Mayura make guardians that resembled human people before, but if that was the case here, the disturbing implications brought up many more troubling questions...  
    No, surely there was a simpler explanation.  
    “We’ll find your hero together, okay?” Chat spoke. “I’ll get recharged, then draw it away from your location.”  
    “I’ll help you soon.” Maron called after her.  As the echoes of his partner's footsteps retreated, the powdery touch of moth wings brushed against his cheek. The fluff of his kwami friend nestled below his chin, settling on the ruff of the scarf that covered his miraculous.  
    “Nooroo.” he cusped the moth in his palm. He could barely see him, but the kwami was clinging to him in an uncharacteristic show of closeness “Mayura was right there in front of me and I…I should have known what to do. My best friend could be in very real danger now because of my decision. If Chat Noir hadn’t been there…” he let his voice trail off into silence as he fished for a baked treat in one of his inseam pockets. Nooroo accepted the food, but he was trembling, and he felt much smaller than usual.  
    “It has nothing to do with you Maron.” Nooroo said “You handle the miraculous wonderfully, and performed your skills most excellently in the face of such a dire threat.” there was a trepidation in his voice that alarmed Maron “… I don't know how to say this... none of that should have happened.”  
    “I… I know, That power of hers rendered me entirely helpless. I couldn’t even stand, I don’t even remember what happened.”  
     When Nooroo shook his head, his antennae tickled his chin. He said something, but his voice was so small it was hard to hear.  
    “What is it Nooroo?”  
    “I don’t know,” his squeak came again, more nervous “At this point of time… I’m quite at a loss as to how to help you, Master, because whatever it was that you faced back there, is far beyond the limit of any singular miraculous, even the peacock miraculous alone.”  
    “What are you saying?”  
    “… I’m saying that, whatever you faced back there, I’m not sure WHAT that was.”

====

    Adrienne did not sleep that night.       
    Not only did she not sleep, but for the first time in a very long time, she’d been grounded as well. By the time she had returned home, it had been around five in the morning, and Nathanial rattled out of his usual composure, had informed her she that she was housebound for the day, lest she became sick from lack of sleep. Her mother would be contacted, but not until Adrienne was at least permitted to rest.  
    Her bed stared at her like she’d committed a cardinal sin. That being said, even though her body ached to simply lay down, and even though Plagg snored loudly from somewhere under a pile of pillows in the window seat, her mind remained wide awake. Headlines and feeds already tripped over themselves with what had happened the night before with wild abandon. Adrienne read through her status updates with fatigue and a cup of something steaming and bitter in one hand.

> **Moth leads his own superhero into Mayura’s trap!  
>  **
> 
> **FIRST PARIS CIVILIAN ABDUCTED**

    The sentimonster attack did not last very long, but it did topple over a few trees and busted the entrances to one of the metro stations as it tried to pursue Chat Noir and the Moth. Chat Noir had help from a Bons Vivant superhero that was able to help corner the creature. As expected, the details of the fight were largely overshadowed by the image of the Moth plastered all over Paris in the night sky. There were vlogs dissecting his interview and making wild speculations of what it could mean for his future appearances. 

> **Can the Moth be trusted?  
>  **
> 
> **BREAKING NEWS: Moth BLUNDER and CAT CATASROPHE!!**

    Strangely, Adrienne felt oddly at peace. It was true that a lot of very unsettling things had happened last night, things that still wired her with adrenaline and trepidation, but aside from those bad things, the thing that she decided to focus on, was that she’d held that boy in her arms last night. She allowed herself to linger on that for a little while, because of all the harrowing Bad Things, this one, lovely, pleasant thing eased the tension in her shoulders. She saw the Moth for a second time that night, very briefly. After failing to find Alan, she found that he had returned to the Césaire household. She had wanted to see if Alan had indeed vanished. She had shown up just as Moth as already leaving, leaving and a grim family in the doorway.

> **NEW VILLAIN DUO: HAS THE MOTH BEEN WORKING WITH MAYURA THE ENTIRE TIME?**

    With all of this commotion, there was one more headline that was paling in comparison, but which caught Adrienne’s attention.       
    Ladybug had been sighted in Paris.  
    “Aha.” she set down her drink and leaned closer to her screen to inspect the blurry cellphone picture of a scarlet-clad figure flying along one of the rooftops like a long distance Olympian. There was no mistaking it. "Looks like you've been spotted my lady." Adrienne began to replay the events of the night before…

_… her padded feet hooked into the brickwork of the Parisian night fare with ferocious momentum, mind set on one thing._

_She was going to protect the Moth._

_Yes, she was going to stay vigil…_

_Not go inside to see him! Of course! She had made a promise to him after all. Moth had made it clear he wanted his space, and she had a lady’s honor. She wouldn’t get too close, just close enough to listen._

_“Just in case,” she added for good measure. “I’m just going to be around if he needs a way out… just in case .”_

_She wanted more than anything for the Moth to realize that he could count on her. She would make sure his path was clear if he needed an escape route from adoring fans at any point in the night. Adrienne couldn’t be the only one who recognized the old theatre in Moth’s broadcast, and if a crowd showed up to mob the place, then she could figure out a way to diverge them. Goodness knows that she could be distracting, VERY distracting._

_She flew over the last few peaks to the crown pavilion of the theatre. The scene before her was entirely innocuous, and there was no one there, yet at least. Patience. That was a trait felines had, right? The windows of the theatre betrayed nothing, however, her ears perked and like little satellite dishes, straining to pick up the sounds from inside. She could bearly hear sir WiFi and the Moth talking quietly inside. It sent shivers down her spine to know that they were there, so close, and in the flesh.  
Still, this was a private moment for the Moth and his hero, she thought. The least I can do is survey the area and give them some space._

_She prowled the adjacent blocks, slinking along the walls, shimmying down polls, eyeing late night do-goers dressed up on the town. There were only a few people that were out, still craning their heads to peer up at the sky as if expecting Moth to re-appear there, but nothing suspicious. When a voice came from behind her, she must have jumped ten feet in the air, landing, on all fours, in front of a bright scarlet figure._

_A picturesque heroine crouched not far from her on a ledge like a spotted gargoyle. Adrienne swore that she must have materialized from_ precicesly _nowhere, but if she had, she did not betray it. Her gaze locked in the distance._

_“Ladybug!” Adrienne blurted and peeled herself from the wall “Well, fancy seeing you here tonight. Did you see the broadcast-?”_

_“We have a problem.” Ladybug did not seem to hear her. She stood, then dropped down beside her. She looked different tonight, just as she always did for every time that Adrienne met her. Today she wore a carapace like_ helm _that covered almost her entire face, except for her lips._

_“Mayura is in the theatre and she has the Moth trapped there.”_

_“What?!” Adrienne pivoted on her heel in the direction of the old building, panic arced in her heart like hot lightning. Ladybug clasped a hand on her shoulder as if prevent her from leaping off in that direction. Her grip was warningly strong._

_“Listen carefully Chat Noir, do not engage with Mayura. You need to get the Moth out of there, and run.”_

_A realization dawned on her_

_“You’re not coming with me?”_

_Ladybug shook her head once_

_“I cannot. Can you do this on your own?”_

_“I can play the role of cat-_ burglar _,” she shrugged “but… what about you? What’s your big plan?”_

_“There isn’t time to explain anything right now, you have to trust in me, Chat. I cannot go with you.”_

_Of all the times that Adrienne had ever interacted with Ladybug, she heard something in her voice that was unfamiliar; concern. No... fear._

_“You do what you need to do Ladybug, you can count on me.”_

_“Be careful,” she warned._

    Ladybug and Moth. Both mysterious, and acutely stubborn, and Adrienne fully invested her trust in both even though she rarely ever knew the full extent of their plans. In the end, it never seemed to matter, as their plans always turned out to be airtight and flawlessly executed. This had been the first time Ladybug was trusting her to face such a threat on her own. She'd had been right, of course. As always. There was no way they could have faced Mayura, not with the Moth in the way he was when she’d shown up.  
    “I’m not sure which bug is going to drive me mad first.”

====

    The world felt a little less real.       
    Maron exhausted both himself and Nooroo, searching Paris far and wide for any sign of Alan, but it became apparent as morning light peeked over the buildings, that …  
    … he was gone.  
    There was a change in the atmosphere as soon as he dragged his feet downstairs. His parents were already up and talking quietly to each other, watching a news programme on television on low volume. They looked up at him when he arrived, worry etched in their faces. Then with the realization that of course… of COURSE, the events of last night would be made public, Maron first had to act surprised, shocked and then distraught at the story that his best friend was now counted among the missing. It was difficult to pull off, as to what he truly felt was utterly numb. Absolute numbness and, a healthy amount of disbelief.  
    Despite his parent's concern, Maron left the house to school alone. Parisians were still strolling the streets with their cups of morning coffee, brooding over breakfasts … It could have been just like any other day, except there was no one walking it with him by his side.

    No one commented when he arrived to class late that morning. He paused in the doorway and looked over his classmates, those who had been quietly murmuring to each other but fell completely silent as they glanced furtively towards him. Maron turned his attention to the empty seat next to where he normally sat, Alan’s absence duly noted. Nina also sat by herself in the front row, chewing on the tip of her pencil absently as she stared at her notebook. She looked up at him as he walked up to her. There were hollows under her eyes.       
    “She’s not here?”  
    Nina glanced dully at the empty seat next to her and shrugged.  
    With a glance to Mr. Bustier, Maron slid into the seat normally occupied Adrienne.  
    “If you don’t mind, I'd like to sit by you today.” Nina’s vacant expression flickered for a moment, the corners of her lips pulled tight. She continued to stare in her notebook.  
    “All of us were friends with Mr. Césaire, and I know that his disappearance is distressing for all of us.” Mr. Bustier spoke purposefully and calmly to the classroom, but Maron could detect the heavy emotion in it. “I’m sure that many of you may have heard the news already. Our classmate has been missing since late last evening. The police are doing everything that they can to recover his whereabouts, but right now, we cannot speculate. We need to do what we can to support each other.” Mr. Bustier’s encouraging efforts drifted to Maron and over the class like it was coming from another world. “If any of you feel the need to talk or have questions, please come to me. All of us here at Dupont want to listen to you and help.” his gaze lingered on Maron longer than most.  
    The police couldn’t help, Maron thought. How could they when Alan was snatched up right in front of his nose like a magic act? His… best friend… HIS champion.

    The sullen mood did not subside that day. It wasn't until he heard a disgusted grunt after class was dismissed that he came to realize that he hadn’t heard a snide comment out of Cleo for the entire afternoon.       
    “These idiots are so desperate for a story for their garbage shaped publication, they’d drag the best hero in Paris into it.” The blonde prep was scrolling through his phone. “I wonder if one of these idiots work for the local paper? I bet I could have them sued for defamation of character."  
    “You don’t think the Moth kidnapped him?” Sabre asked curiously  
    “Oh puh-lease, do yourself a favor and learn the difference between news and slander.” Cleo waved his hand dismissively “Mayura is just trying to make the Moth look bad, just like she already has done with Ladybug.” he tsked “Honestly, a smear campaign is such a weak move for her this late in the game. She just made a huge mistake. Haters can hate, but a real fan like me knows who the Moth is.”  
     The blonde brought the phone to his ear.  
    “Yes, mom? Yeah, we need to talk about whatever mess is going on at the local press.” he stormed off, his voice deepening as he plunged into a tirade. How strange, Maron thought as he watched Sabre trot after him in abstract wonder. Cleo was the last person he would have picked as being a Moth fan.  
    Nina was slumped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned towards him when Maron called out her name. Her expression was pulled tight, hidden halfway under the rim of her cap. She looked like she was about to say something when he stepped close, and by intuition, Maron spread his arms. She met him without hesitation, pulling him into a hug. There came a little sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a little wince. Maron clung tighter. After a moment they stepped back from each other. Nina’s eyes were glittering, and she cleared her throat.  
    “Thanks, dude.” her smile was a little lopsided. Maron smiled back.  
     “Sure.” Maron’s voice was also thick as he spoke “Hey, he’ll show up, okay?” he drew from defiance in his heart “I’m sure that Chat Noir and Moth are working on a way to find him and bring him back.”  
    “Yeah. You’re probably right.” Nina rubbed the back of her neck vacantly. “I just wish I knew what is really going on here. None of the other people that have disappeared before have shown up, right? What makes this time any different?”  
     “Well this time it IS different,” Maron posited “All those other people that have vanished have been when Ladybug has been on the clock. This is the first time it’s ever happened when the Moth has been on watch.”  
    Nina seemed to consider this, her eyebrows lifting.  
    “I guess I didn’t think of that. I just, wish I could do something. Sometimes this situation feels so…. above us, you know? Like I’m totally helpless to protect anyone.”  
    “If you think that way, then it will come true.” said Maron “We can definitely make a difference Nina, we have to look out for each other.”  
    “Yeah. Well, Alan tried to make a difference. I guess that was a big mistake huh?” Nina gave a sad smile and turned away. Maron watched her leave with disappointment. A fist which had been clenched at his side with furious determination, relaxed.  
    Maybe if he hadn’t interfered and let things pan out naturally with the group with Maxine, maybe none of this ordeal would have unfolded as it did. He’d made things so much worse of inviting someone he knew so well personally into the superhero world. This was why secret identities were SO important, he couldn’t be this careless ever again.  
    He opened his phone and briefly scrolled Alan’s messages even though he knew there would not be any new ones. The last text from Alan had been so excited. After a moment, Maron idly swiped to call him.  
    The phone rang on the other end.  
    And rang.  
    Eventually, it went to voicemail. Maron hung up, unable to listen to the pleasant voice prompting him to leave a message. He clutched the phone to his chest for a moment, then quickly, and with gritted teeth- he typed something out.

 

 **Maron:** I’m sorry.

 **Maron:** I hope you are safe.

 **Maron:** I’ll find you.

 

=====

 

 

It was a warm, summer eve.

The sky was deep and royal and rich, the kind of hue that only dreams could achieve. Adrienne never saw so many stars this far into Paris, but they were shining here, deep with the moon. No, wait a minute, maybe they were not stars. Stars didn’t usually move around on their own. Did they? They were butterflies… she reasoned, thousands of white butterflies high up in the sky, glittering like diamonds and dancing and swirling around each other like a Van Goh painting.

She looked around the balcony she stood upon. Where had she found the Turkish candles? That was such a romantic touch. It must have taken her the better part of her afternoon to arrange them like this. She’d seen this sort of thing in plenty of romantic films. Soft rose petals coated the ground, softened it to red. It was so cheesy, and she absolutely loved it.

She hoped that she’d love it too.

 In the undefined way dreams are, she wasn’t sure what she looked like, but it was absolutely Ladybug, of course. However, she did see the reflection of candles in her sunny-day blue eyes. She could smell the damask rose that she slipped into her hand.

She couldn’t remember what she had said, the words ‘I can’t’… and ‘secret identities’ vaguely came to her. Her Lady was being so earnest with her, trying to explain herself. She didn’t need to. She understood, there was someone else in her life… wasn’t there?

That feeling of affection billowed up inside of her like a wonderful, soft plume. They were friends, and that at least was a wonderful gift. The chaste kiss she left on her cheek before they parted ways left a warmth on her lips that didn’t fade.

    When she woke, it was late afternoon.       
    “Huh.” her voice was groggy.  
    Adrienne stretched and gingerly touched her fingertips to her lips. That dream, however pleasant was fading quickly from her grasp, leaving her only a vague feeling of being lightweight. She rolled over and spotted a pair of virulent eyes watching her from her bedside.  
    “Hey.” said Plagg.  
    “Hi."  
    “Have a good dream?” he said with slow suspicion.  
    “As a matter of fact I did.” Although try as she might, she couldn’t remember it at all now. Plagg observed her quietly with lightly narrowed eyes  
    “Your mother called you.” Adrienne threw off the covers and grasped for her phone. As if waiting for the chance, the kwami swooped into the warm divet in the pillows she’d left behind, curling up in picturesque feline contentment. There were two missed calls from her mom and a voicemail.  
    “Oh no.”  
    “Mmm.” Plagg murmured from the sheets.

    “…Mom?”    
    “Thank goodness you’re safe and sound.” her mother’s voice sounded tired and stretched but relieved “I want to know exactly what happened to you. Nathanial said you came home incredibly late last night. No one could reach you on your phone, I was worried sick.”  
   “You know that there was another attack on Paris last night. I was… sort of… caught in the middle of it.”  
    She heard a small intake of breath on the other end  
    “Adrienne, you should consider avoiding late-night pageants.”  
    “I know… but… weekends are all filled up-”  
    “Love, you’re only fourteen. These should be the years you should be exploring who you want to be. You are in the perfect place to do so. You’ll have the rest of your life to work, and when that time comes, you’ll look back on today and you might wish you have spent your time a little differently.”  
    “Right,” said Adrienne. Even as she said it, the felt odd. She looked across the room where Plaggs ears poked over the sheet of the bed, staring at her curiously.  
    “I do have good news, we will be the end of the set here in a short month, and I thought that it would be lovely to have you here with me.”  
    “Really?!”  
    “I will tell Nathan to book a flight for you out in a couple of weeks. Indonesia is lovely this time of year, we could see the best sites and explore some temples. You might really enjoy it.”  
    Adrienne froze by the window.  
     “… A couple of weeks?” she repeated, seeing her own surprise in the reflection.  
    “Or more. Won’t that be just divine? You should pack some lighter clothing, it’s going to be very warm here at the moment, much warmer than Paris at least. So long as the set is occupied in post-production, we could do whatever we would like here. We can finally have some time to catch up. It’s very unlikely that there would be a monster attack in a remote place such as this....”

  
     “....I would just feel so much _better_  if you were here with _me_.”

    Her mother seemed to melt through a long distance as Adrienne thought of the night before. She could feel cold, and smell must of an old theatre. The Moth cradled in her arms when she’d caught first him plummeting from the air. She remembered the look of his face like he was staring someplace far beyond her sight. I was the first time she’d seen him in person, and the first thought that passed through her mind was that the renowned anonymous superhero of Paris was very possibly, dying in her arms. It was by a stroke of monumental relief he seemed to come to life again, gasping as if the breath had momentarily been stolen from him.      
    What was she thinking? Running off to Indonesia to see her mother right now! Mayura was in Paris and she had Moth’s number. She HAD to be here to help secure his safety and protect Paris. That more than anything was the most important.  
    “That’s a long time to miss school.” she tried stupidly after a moment  
    “You can have your school work sent over to you!” her mom chuckled “I recall that one of your classmates does it all the time.”  
    “Well, I don’t… think that’s a good idea.”  
    There was a silence on the other side of the phone.  
    “Adrienne, is there something that you wish to tell me?”  
    Adrienne took a seat at the edge of her bed.  
    “I guess… I guess there’s just a lot going on right now. One of my good friends disappeared from class. We were all good friends with him. I can’t just leave and go on a worldwide trip. Not right now, not again. I have to be here, I can't just run away like....”  
    There was another silence  
    “I’m sorry love.” her voice had softened “I did not realize that was your friend who disappeared.”  
    “Yeah.” Adrienne.  
    “You must be very upset.”  
    “I don’t know how to feel at the moment.”  
    “Well, I am a proponent of expressing yourself, as long as it’s in a healthy way. The moment we experience negative emotions, the closer we are to let them go so that we can allow love and acceptance back into our lives. Bottling up fear and anger in order to put on a strong front can cause you to harden as a person. Remember to talk about it with your loved ones, okay? Remember that you can always talk to me.”  
    “Yeah, I know, thanks mom.”  
    “I’m being called back on set, but we’ll talk again soon. Nathan will have that flight booked for you. At least think about it, okay?”  
    The call ended.

    Adrienne glanced at her trophy shelf.  
    Before Plagg showed up, Adrienne never kept secrets from her mother. Her mother trusted her, and through that trust came Adrienne's independence, but the trust was still hard-won through accomplishments that she’d made. Those achievements, glittering on the shelves and in the covers of magazines, were something her parents used to boast over with Paris’ upper crust. Her mom didn’t do that, but old habits died hard.  
    Adrienne still kept her eyebrows arched in public, to frame her face with the look innocence that was so popular with models her age. She practiced Chinese and was fluent despite there no longer being a direct reason to use it. She ranked at the top of her fencing class, and her mother- although she always praised her achievements, never made an attendance to one of her bouts during school-wide competitions.  
    For who was she even trying to be perfect, when no one was left here to see it? Her mom wasn't here to see it. What was more, she had a taste of what it was like to be sassy and wily, a little rebellious and more creative... a little more romantic. It was harder still to keep up charade going that she was still doing perfectly fine being alone out here with just Nathanial to keep her company. Adrienne still wanted to make her mother proud. She wanted to show that she could be brave, strong, independent and witty, but Adrienne was not like Emilie…

    Adrienne panned her contact list idly. The first thing she was going to do when she could go out again was to go and see Nina. She had not responded to any of her texts.

    She texted Maron instead.

 **Adrienne:** Are you doing okay?

It wasn’t even a second later when she had a response.

 **Maron:** alk1a-sp;

 **Maron:** sorry. yes, I’m doing okay, thank you for checking in.

Adrienne smiled. Even his texts sounded like Maron.

 **Adrienne:** If you need someone to talk to about what happened, I’m around, I’m happy to talk and listen- alright? He was your best friend.

There was a long pause. Man. She thought. I sound just like my own mother, don’t I?

 **Maron:** that’s sweet

 **Maron:** you’re sweet.

 **Maron:** I mean that’s sweet.

 **Adrienne:** I mean it. Don’t feel intimidated by me okay?

 **Maron:** I’m not!

 **Maron:** I mean of course. Thank you. I’m just mostly worried if he's okay right now, but at the moment there’s nothing else I can do. Everyone feels that way. Nina went home early today. I would like to check up on her.

 **Adrienne:** I wish I could join you. She hasn’t been talking to me at all. It seems weird to bring it up after what just happened, but, are you coming to the Kitty Section practice tomorrow?

 **Maron:** I am not sure. Why?

 **Adrienne:** I thought to invite Nina along just to get to talk to her. Music always helps her to open up.

 **Maron:** You’re going?f#

 **Adrienne:** I’m in the band.

 **Maron:** 3;

 **Maron:** I had no idea

 **Maron:** Maybe we can

 **Maron:** go to her place togetdher?

 **Maron:** *Together. To bring her there.

 **Maron:** Or not. I could do that.

 **Adrienne:** Yeah, that sounds nice.

     “Hey.” said Plagg “What’s that?”      
     “Hm?” Adrienne tossed the phone aside. Plagg was looking out the window, and she followed his gaze to the setting sun outside.  
     Something white zig-zagged across the rooftop.  
     “AH! Plagg!!!” she nearly pinned herself to her bedroom window “That’s one of his!” she squashed her face against the glass and was able to catch where the little insect was heading before it flipped over some chimneys and disappeared.  
     “Get ready Plagg we’re going out.”

====

    Maron felt like he was staring into the sun.  
    Not in a literal sense. In actuality, he was watching a young man on a park bench thoughtfully pick his nose. However, all around the man, walking down the streets, in buildings, even the one he stood on, he felt an ebbing tidal brew of distrust and fear.  
    Why were negative emotions so overwhelming in comparison to the positive ones? They were boisterous and loud and had a tendency to drown out everything else within range. It made it difficult to squint and parse through them all, to find any trace of what could be a trace of positivity, and more importantly, someone he knew. Alan.  
    The news reports had certainly done their damage, and Paris was an emotional garden that was alive and humming with confusion and apprehension. IT had finally happened: someone in Paris was finally stolen away, a place that was protected by two superheroes and had, at least for a long time, seemed sacrosanct to disappearances befallen by the rest of the world. He wondered if Nooroo could come up with a better way to navigate such a negative mind-scape jungle gym. Because, if this was how it was going to be from now on, he was going to have to come up with a positivity campaign of some sort to rally spirits around.  
    “Ah! So you ARE out here!”  
    He turned, surprised by the voice, but not so alarmed to see the young lady Chat Noir standing with her hands on her hips, her green eyes smiling at him from a nearby rooftop.  
    “Surprised to see me again so soon?” he called to her.  
    “I’m more surprised to see just how handsome you are.”  
    Maron blinked at her response. For her part so did she, for a moment askance even by her own boldness. Then, as if to accept her new found affection she walked towards him.  
    No. Not walk, he corrected himself.  
    Strutting. She was strutting towards him.  
    If Maron were ever to draw a comparison of seeing someone through emotions alone or through a hero's eyes, and compare it to seeing the same someone in the flesh, it was the difference of watching a world, and watching a world through a VR without being able to use the controls or squint through pixelation of emotions and the occasional motion sickness.  
In broad daylight, there was no barrier to prevent him from being able to observe every strand of Chat Noir's hair and the edges of the tessellating pattern of her black catsuit in high definition. He realized that she was a bit taller than he was, by a good deal, and also that her mask was able to pull a bit of expression when she looked at him. He could also sense her blatant curiosity like a miniature supernova. Normally he might be overwhelmed by such intense emotion, but frankly, it was the first pleasant sentiment he’d encountered all day, and he welcomed it like a warm bonfire on a cold night.  
    “It’s great to see you face to face Chat, without being in battle.” He offered his hand to her in what he thought seemed to be a professional gesture. Her gaze did not move from his face. The distinctive hum of her baton smoothly collapsed as she tucked it at her side. She took his hand in hers and raised it up towards the edge of her toothed mask.  
    “The purr-leasure is all mine, really.” her voice had taken on a dulcet tone as she planted a quick kiss atop the bridge of his knuckles. Her toothed half mask seemed to quasi bend by whatever magic powered it.  
    Well then, this certainly couldn’t be more professional, he thought.  
    “Hmm.” Chat raised her free hand to touch her face experimentally “It didn’t actually occur to me until this very moment that wearing this mask isn’t ideal to kiss someone.”  
    Maron tsked and retrieved his fingers from her.  
    “So, what are we up to Mon Monsieur?” she took a seat beside him. The butterfly which he had sent out to scout now circled around her lazily. If he were to hazard a guess, it was attracted to her positive curiosity just as he was.  
    “I’m looking for the boy that Mayura abducted.” he admitted “I am looking for leads, or perhaps create a superhero to search for him, but I’m having a hard time. Negative emotions are overwhelming, they can drown out many other feelings and emotions, and it’s clouding my judgment.”  
    “Your own or the city’s?”  
    “The city itself.” Maron leaned against his staff “Honestly, I’m still trying to piece together what exactly happened last night.”    
    “I was also wondering about that. I had no idea how Mayura got to you so fast.”  
    “After I stripped away Sir WiFi’s powers, I was not expecting him to be so upset. I might have missed something because he simply appeared to transform into Mayura.”  
    Chat Noir tilted her head curiously, her eyes widened.  
    “Mayura hasn’t done that to people before, has she?”  
    “Unless he was a sentimonster to begin with, no, but that doesn’t make sense to me. I shouldn’t be able to make a superhero of one of her monsters.”  
    “Odd.”  
    “Very odd.” he agreed “My kwami mentioned that the Mayura we faced last night was much more powerful than he had expected. I think there’s something more at work here, I’m not sure what yet.”  
    Chat Noir rubbed her chin  
    “Your powers are the power of transmission right?”  
    “Right.”  
    “Then, could it somehow be related to your own powers? I mean, it sounds like the power of transmission if I ever heard of it.”  
    She’s sharp, he thought.  
    “I’m considering any possibility, no matter how unlikely. Although, how in the world it could be related to me I couldn’t even guess at the moment.”   
     Chat Noir reposed on her stomach on the edge of the building, her legs twined in the air. Her tail made little polite curly Q's.  
    “Did your kwami ever tell you that all the other Miraculous are missing? Like, a ton of them? We’re talking hundreds, maybe?”  
    “He did tell me that. He has no idea where they are.”  
    “Maybe Mayura is using more than one miraculous at the same time.”  
    “Is that possible?”  
   Chat Noir shrugged   
    “If it is, that would make sense for what happened, Occam's Razor and all that. But that doesn’t exactly help us does it?”  
   “Given that Mayura’s attacks happen all over the world, that would certainly fit the idea that she may be looking for miraculous other than ours to increase her power." he mused "Or maybe she's moving around the world so drastically because looking for someone instead."  
    “Who?”  
     They looked at each other  
    “Last night, Mayura told me that Ladybug was trying to destroy the world.”  
Chat’s eyebrows arched   
    “DID she now? And did she also ask you to join her side?”  
    “Yes, she did, actually.”  
    “Of course she did!” Chat Noir tutted and shook her head   
    "I don't believe her, but it made me wonder if Ladybug is actually chasing after Mayura to stop her world-wide attacks, or if maybe Mayura is the one chasing Ladybug instead wherever she happens to be."  
    They were both silent for a moment, and Maron took a seat beside Chat on the ground to think in a more critical 'thinking' position. He lay his staff against his crossed legs.  
    “I met Ladybug last night. Right before I came in to save you.” Chat Noir said after a moment  
    It was Maron’s turn to raise his eyebrows  
    “She just, stopped by, and she didn’t come to help? Why?”  
    “I’d love to know what myself, actually.” she sighed “I don't exactly question her very often, but she seemed, frightened last night. She’s been fighting Mayura for years, maybe she knows something about her that we don’t right now. There wasn’t any time to press for answers. You were in serious trouble.”  
    Maron frowned.  
    “I would really like to talk to her.”  
    “You and me both Mon Monsieur. I trust you both as partners, but I do not believe that Ladybug trusts me at all.” Maron blinked in surprise. He had allowed himself to focus on Chat with his empathy alone, and he could feel a hint of earnest frustration momentarily sullen her dazzling and sunny emotive spectrum.   
    “Well, I trust you Chat Noir, absolutely.” It was incredible how the emotions from her swelled instantly to rich and bold marvel and affection. They were not unpleasant from him to indulge in. That was good superhero material right there, he couldn't help but notice. The feeling was so contagious that he found himself grinning at her.  
    “So,” said Chat, resting her chin on one palm and pointing to the lazily circling butterfly with. “You aren’t worried about that being noticed up here?”  
    “These are much less noticeable by day than by night,” he explained “I’m looking for a new base. It’s clear that it's no longer safe for me to transform near my home. I’ve been scouting less populated areas to use instead, but there isn’t much free real estate left here in Paris.”  
    “You mean like a secret lair?” there was a glint in Chat’s eye  
    “Well… lair sounds a bit like a villainous term-” he mused reluctantly  
    “But I KNOW a place like that!”  
    “You do?”  
    “Not just a place, the purr-fect place. Believe me. No one will be able to find you!”  
    “Not like the ghost station, right?”  
    Chat blushed, shaking her head.  
    “This place is much more refined. In fact, I could take you there right now if you wanted! It’s not even terribly far." she leapt to her feet and pointed towards the distant silhouette of the Eiffel Tower. "There’s a big estate that has been locked up for some time. No one is using it! I’ve visited plenty of times. It’s very secure and totally protected from vagrants, you couldn’t pick a safer place to do your work.”  
    “An abandoned estate?” Maron raised a brow dubiously.  
    “No no no. It’s been kept up very well. You’ll see what I mean when you get there.”  
    Well, she wasn’t lying, Maron thought, and her excitement was so contagious, he had to admit that he was curious now too.  
    “Alright kitten. What is this place called?”  
    Maron swore that Chat Noir’s mask was grinning wide at him as she turned back to look him. Her eyes had an odd glint to them.

    “It’s the estate of the late Gabriel Agreste.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading again! I have a couple more pictures I doodled up if you're interested.  
> Recently learned Mayuras minions are called 'sentimonsters', that's pretty neat
> 
> Maron:  
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/222628daefcb4fec98112255370bdcec/tumblr_pn07grpuzO1qks47bo8_r1_1280.jpg  
> Faces of Adrienne and Maron! (I'd like to do small animations for chapters down the road.)  
> https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DzgIdZTWwAEXIcx.jpg:large  
> Kwamis! (my versions for this AU)  
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/f4d88569fc38cd6411f2893bcf8d10aa/tumblr_pn07grpuzO1qks47bo6_1280.png


End file.
